The assurance I needed came from a homemade Mother's Day card

The assurance I needed came from a homemade Mother's Day card

I have no regret about being a single parent, but like every parent, I worry if the way I’m raising my child will set him on the right path.

Am I giving him what he needs to be soft, kind, and generous?

My son is a masculine boy in the very traditional sense of the word. He doesn’t like compliments about his appearance that refer to his looks. For example: If I say Olu, you look handsome, he says no, I’m cool. 

Although I’ve told him many times that colors have no gender, he doesn’t want anything pink. He is assertive and wants his way.

He is a masculine African boy surrounded by Mami Wata divine feminine energy. Still, with so much of what passes for masculinity in African men being toxic, I worry that despite my attempts to nurture his divine masculine—kind, vulnerable, honest, generous—the toxicity might win.

This time last year, I was in Freetown, and he was in Accra. We didn’t know when we would be reunited (it took six months).

Aunty Femi (my virtual aunt) sent me money on Cashapp to get a gift for Mother’s Day. She empathized with me. At that time, I had not admitted it to myself, but it was painful to not be with him. Often, I evade putting feelings into words because I fear that once I say them out loud, the emotion will be felt (I don’t always like to feel).

Once I admitted to Aunty Femi that I missed him, longing filled my whole heart, and the feeling moved from there to my throat, up past my ears, and it poured from my eyes. 

Am I doing the right thing for my child? Is the separation (though not my choice) from him going to harm his well-being? These were the thoughts and questions that tormented me. 

We reunited in September 2020, after a six-month pandemic separation. When I returned, I noticed he was wild; his reading skills had fallen behind. The assertiveness had turned to entitlement (the boy was spoilt and whiny). In my absence, he had been allowed to have his way as compensation. 

I put my mind on setting him straight.

I enforced bedtime. I introduced a daily schedule with limited screen time (monitoring screen content for toxicity), daily lessons to build up literacy skills, earfuls from me about actions and consequences, and kindness.

Seven months later, we are still on it. Every day, another 24-hours to guide him; sometimes by force, other times without much effort to be more divine. Ask me what I want him to be when he grows up and that he be kind. He needs to cure cancer or acquire wealth and fame. I just want him to be a kind man—that is what the world needs on any given day—kind African men.

This brings me to the reason for this post in the first place (yes, there is a reason. HA!)

Yesterday after I picked him up from school, he said he had a surprise for me. He pulled out a green paper folded in half. 

It was the Friday before Mother’s Day, so he had made a card. I thought it was sweet, and I thanked him for it. Glad the school made them do it.

Mum, I love you. 

We returned home and went about our usual post-school activities, consisting of me on my laptop and playing for him.

Several hours went by. He came to my room to ask for an envelope. I told him I didn’t have any. He went away. Then he returned to ask if he could have scissors. I told him I didn’t want him to have one. He went away.

When he returned, he handed me two handmade cards designed with markers.

I love you mum, you are the best Mum “evare”!.

I beamed, and I thanked him. 

Then it was time to pray to end the day’s fast. Right as I was finishing my prayer, he came back and presented me with another homemade card. 

Mum, you mac me so happy. 

I was on the prayer mat still. My heart filled up quickly; every single corner of it lit up as if touched by an angel. That light moved to my face, and for the next couple of hours, I floated with delight. I grinned. I hugged him tightly. He let me kiss him on the cheek without protest. Then he asked if we could watch Pippi Longstocking (one of my all-time fave kid movies) together, and I said a big YES!

Receiving the Mama, you make me so happy card is by far the most precious experience that I’ve had this year. 

More than I love you that he can express how I make him feel shows he can be vulnerable; he is kind, generous, and honest!

Somebody say divine masculine energy? Yaaassssss!!!!😊

For today it is the reassurance that I need that I am doing the right thing for what else truly matters in the life of any child but joy. 

As we go into this Mother’s Day weekend, I hope you can look at your child knowing you are doing right by them. 

Happy Mother’s Day to all African women who pour divine feminine love and energy into a child. 

Yu na mama ivin if nɔ to yu bɛlɛ bɔn, dis Mama De na fɔ wi ɔl.

Happy Mother, Happy Child. Happy Child, Happy Life.

In Memory of Albert Ekow Yankey

In Memory of Albert Ekow Yankey

Much ado about the English alphabet - Nigerians react to A is for akara

Much ado about the English alphabet - Nigerians react to A is for akara