Nesting

Amai Chii?

Mothering, motherhood. What is that. I find it fascinating that most parents agree that parenting is the most difficult, trying, challenging job in the world. I find it equally fascinating that as challenging as it is, it’s a job that comes with an ambiguous job description except one thing. BE PRESENT

Whether one is an estranged father or mother for one reason or another. Questions always come up, where is the mother?  who is the father? Whether one considers the father or mother toxic, the question still comes up. As a Christian, l believe God created us and HE gave us  children and He considers the parenting role crucial. I often ask Him/ myself, how come He did not lay out an a to z clear cut guide line. A dummy guide to parenting straight from the Creator himself. Yes we have the bible and its filled with wisdom and insight, however there are times that l turn to Him and say,

Seriously? How do l figure this? Where do l start? I get so confused that at that moment even the Bible that’s filled with answers becomes blurry. What is it about parenting, mothering ?

A father once said to his daughter, honey l wish l could just press the download button from my head to yours, that way you will fully understand the advice, the path, the wisdom shared and avoid making the same mistakes l made, because telling you the story, the consequences is not enough, life calls you to learn via experience. 

Is mothering, mothering without a father? Is mothering validated by fathering, or mothering is mothering full stop.

During lockdown my reflections on mothering went deeper. As a single mother raising  2 strong  girls, it requires my 150 percent of my attention and a call to be present and listen. Its not always easy…

Lockdown has had its beautiful moments were we sit down face to face and l see my girls like never before.  

Listen Listening
rising and falling rising and falling
squeeze squeezing 
listen laying a grumpy grip on my head
listening places my head straight onto my neck
one two click left click front
ramrod, tree trunk
chin slightly popping up
surrendered ear lobes catching every flying word
Listening
at that specific moment my ears rose from the ground were they were they were snoozing.
They placed themselves on point, one to the left, one to the right, just below my hairline my temples.
They flipped and flopped like little birds, sat, neatly perched away from my head as if they were ready for flight. A rush a buzz of energy, wheezing every inch and lobe stretching out to capture every lyric
The supermarket
sperm into egg
to embryo
head shoulders knees and toes
ear nose mouth leg fingers
wiggle wiggle blink blink
grow grow grow
look up to the sperm
the egg
both look down at me
mom that's what they call me
I see God

Coventry, UK May-June 2020

Model/Artist: Laura Nyahuye

Wordsmith: Laura Nyahuye

Designer maker: Laura Nyahuye

Photographer: John Whitmore

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