You must have heard the story of the man, his son and a donkey: if not, today is your day; I will tell you all about it.
The folktale goes something like this.
One day a man and his son and their donkey were going to the market. As they walked along they met a group of people who laughed at them and asked why they were not making use of the donkey. So the man put his son on the donkey.
CAVEAT: Get ready to be rattled
A friend of mine recently asked a very thought provoking question on face book; maybe I should say it was in line with my perception of money. She asked:
“This thing about side hustles, is it about needs or just materialism and wanting to acquire more and more. I believe God has designed us to enjoy what he has given us, most of us stress out trying to earn more and we miss to enjoy what we already have. . .” Janet Isaya
I count myself very lucky to live in a part of the world where domestic help is somewhat affordable and relatively easy to come by. I say relatively easy to come by because I took advantage of ‘the house help transfer window’ – the period after the Christmas and New Year festivities and holiday season when most house helps decide not to return to their work stations from the village – to get a new house help; however it has taken me a month plus to land one: thank God it would seem from today I am out of the woods!
The general understanding in my part of the world is that house helps assist in housekeeping and when the mother is working then they also take care of the child/children – I hesitate to use the term ‘raise up‘ the child/children. But when I look at it critically, I don’t think they assist – they actually get the job done, period! Because let us be honest if there was ever a thankless job, it has to be housekeeping: Its mundane, it has to be done over and over again especially cleaning but dare you not do it then everything literally begins to fall apart.
Initially taken aback after telling them that I am a stay at home mum, most ladies then quip:
“You are lucky to have a supportive husband”
To be honest I am not quite sure I understand this statement, maybe I should just ask the next person who tells me this to unpack it slowly for me: wait a minute, am having a conversation with someone who just told me that. Let me follow up on it.
But I digress. . .
I am a stay at home mum, by choice. That’s what I have always said but the more I think about it maybe the job chose me.
At the beginning of the year I met a friend who I hadn’t seen since I graduated from graduate school. After the usual pleasantries the conversation went something like this:
Identity.
Who are you?
Why are you here?
I have found that one’s identity and one’s purpose are closely intertwined.
Since writing my first book, I have had the privilege of being interviewed severally. The question, ‘Who is Joyce Mwangi?’ is always the first question on set. I have previously fumbled over this question despite knowing very well it will be asked, for some reason it always gets me off guard.
I have been a Stay At Home Mum (SAHM) for almost 4 years now. It has been one of the most fulfilling journeys of my life, I would not trade it for anything. Last year I wrote a little bit on how I got here and how I am thriving as a SAHM. Since then not much has changed apart from the physical growth of myself and the children ofcourse 😁😀😉😊😀. However, I have been having this nagging feeling to reach out and form a sisterhood a movement for SAHM’s. And this month I stepped out in faith and started Integrated Living – SAHM.
In the quest to champion and sustain the rights for girls and women to be educated this proverb/quote made it’s way into the human psyche. It has been pushed down our throats especially in the developing countries and we have owned it and run with it: no questions asked.
However, the more I have reflected on this way of thinking the more I clearly see the faults in it.
When I was young I always wanted to be a part of the Kenya judicial system. I will not get into the real reasons for this desire, but I will say this, the fact that I like expressing myself was among the least of them. As time went by, this desire evolved from wanting to become the first female chief justice in Kenya to settling on being a lawyer (nothing bad about being a lawyer ?).
To date some of my family members and close friends still refer to me as chief justice or lawyer. One of the people who fondly called me lawyer was my late grandmother Sarah Wanjiku: she had actually saved my phone number under that name, may she continue to rest in peace.
So, after my not very successful performance at the end of primary school I realized that I could not be a judge leave alone be the first female chief justice in Kenya. I began to pursue law as a career option and so in high school history become my favourite subject. English and Christian Education also featured prominently. However, blame it on the foolishness of youth, I did not perform as expected in the final high school exams and so did not qualify for public university. I paid dearly for my foolishness, spent the next five years of my life ‘slaving away’ at home and feeling very miserable about it.
A few weekends ago there was a lady in our estate ( estate makes where we stay sound fancy, maybe I should say our plot 10 ?? ) who was getting married. I did not know about the wedding until that beautiful Saturday morning. The caretaker was announcing to all and sundry that a bride would be picked from the compound and so we needed to go near their house and see her coming down the stairs. Guess who were her first converts? The children of course!