This poem was written by my daughter Lila as an homage to me her mother. All the titles are in Swahili as well as the Bible verses she placed at the beginning of each poem. Because Swahili is my mother tongue and a big part of my heritage and identity, this was her way of honoring me. However, these words ring true to many women who are all mothers at heart. The roles they play whether to their biological children or those they have not borne themselves. I would like to wish you all a Happy Mother’s Day!!
Mgongo wake (her back)
Kisulisuli kikiisha pita, asiye haki hayuko tena; bali mwenye haki ni msingi wa milele
When the storm has swept by, the wicked are gone, but the righteous stand firm forever
( Proverbs 10:25)
My mother’s back is a sturdy rock, strong and firm
Her posture always tall, straight,
Proud like an African queen from the east coast of the continent
It is comfort and reassurance
For when our own backs bend and break
Mighty and great
My eyes never tire of watching her from behind
Fascinated by how stable and tough she is
Statuesque, she stands for hours
Making pancakes, eggs and bacon for us and our visitors
Barely taking a bite
Before proceeding to clearing the table and cleaning the kitchen
My mother’s back is round and smooth
The best pillows our heads could get
When she strapped us on with her colourful maputa
Carrying us around our Montreal duplex as she did her chores
Drool streaming down our soft chins, penetrating her shirt and soaking her flesh
Her back is durable
“Able to withstand wear and pressure”
For on that back she carried us all
And carried our pains and sorrows
And burdens great or small
An Atlas shouldering the world
Our world
All condensed on the cervical, thoracic and lumbar spine Which form her back
Mikono yake (her hands)
Hufanya kazi zake kwa nguvu, mikono yake ina nguvu kwa ajili ya kazi yake
She set out her work vigorously, her arms are strong for her tasks
(Proverbs 31:17)
My mother’s hands are soft and gentle
Delicate at the touch
Full of thoughtfulness and care
Benign fingers rubbing my back
In smooth gestures help me unwind
Quaggy flesh making its way up and down my spine
As I lay down on her lap, watching a cheesy American movie
Teleporting back to my younger days
When I was four, five six years old and only afraid of the dark and the dentist
My mother’s hands are also vigorous and rough
Rugged by years of work and moil
With age, the flesh became hard
As she would knead the dough
And scrub the bathtub
And mop the floors
Her nails and skin chipped off
Giving birth to a new layer, coarse and leathery
I would watch those hands
Washing heavy pots and wiping small kitchen counters
Moving with precision as they cut purple onions and green peppers
Carefully selecting spices as they marinated steaks and ground beef
I would observe her fingers dancing quickly on my sister’s head
Braiding her dark hair in nice cornrows or twisting them in Bantu knots
From them I learned to mince, to manage, to mend
And they never cease to amaze me by all they can create and produce
Despite their rough appearance
There still exists a layer of skin, on my mother’s hands
Subtle and soft
Like grains of sand
Macho yake (her eyes)
Huangalia shughuli za nyumbani mwake, naye hali mkate wa uvivu
She watches over affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness
(Proverbs 31:27)
My mother’s eyes glitter and sparkle
Filled with a thousand emotions
They light up the dark
And glow in the night
Her eyes quickly fill with tears of joy and sorrow
Sensitive and charitable
Breaking down in front of soap operas
Airing until 10:30 or 11:00 P.M.
And getting sentimental every time a commercial
About an issue that is sociopolitical makes her dismal
They watch tenderly over her children and those in need
Concerned as she notices our ripped socks and tight clothes
Making a mental note to take us shopping before the beginning of the school year
My mother’s eyes are indulgent and patient
As they perceive everything
From our wrongdoings to our mishaps
Forbearing, they observe our learning journey
Calmly looking over our hidden stash of sour gum
After she told us countless times to stop always buying candy
Her eyelids blink slowly
Tired of our disobedience but also willing to give us one more chance
Her eyes also see the heart
Understanding and empathetic,
They descry what is unseen
Charitable and cordial,
They espy what is on the other side of the screen
Behind which we hide
Our feelings and raw nature
All of it, she identifies
Moyo wake (her heart)
Sura nzuri inaweza kudanganya, na huenda urembo ukatoweka upesi, lakini mwanamke
anayemwogopa Yehowa atasifiwa
Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised
(Proverbs 31:30)
My mother’s heart is big and generous
Always open to those in need
Compassion filled and empty of cruelty
Seeing the good side of the friends we complain about
Knowing their situation is not ideal
And even inviting them over for a meal
It is warm and welcoming
For those in need of a shoulder to cry on
Or a listening ear
My mother’s heart is stalwart and staunch
“Loyal, reliable and hardworking”
As well as “committed in attitude”
Her heart always puts her family first
Making sure we had our video games and Barbie dolls
Before she bought the desk she needed or headboard for her mattress
My mother’s heart worships the Lord
More than anyone and anything else in the world
It clings to her Christian faith
Ready to carry it to the grave
She is full of love
Searching for whom to give it to
Willing to share it even with the undeserving
Me included
My mother’s heart is genial and amiable
It is the friend, the sister, the spouse
The mother
We all need
It holds our pains and secrets as if they were her own
Rejoices with the merry and weeps with the sorrowful
A mellow and hearty heart my mother has
The kind that is quickly running out
And that the world now needs most.
