Siku ya Mama

Asante Mdau Born Again Pagan, kwa kuniletea haya mashairi ya kuadhimisha 'Siku ya Mama'. Kesho jumapili, ni sikukuu ya 'Siku ya Mama' Mother's Day.

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Katika kusherehekea na kukumbuka Siku ya Mama, hapa kuna mashairi mawili (kidogo yameandikwa kutokana na “contexts” za maisha mijini na vijijini): mama mzazi…bila yeye, wewe na mimi hatunge…; na mama ambaye hakubahatika kuzaa (mugumba).
Hebu tuyasome na kuyatafukari kwa Siku ya Mama, japo yameandikwa kwa lugha ya “ung’enge” au “kimombo” (kwa sababu):

A Song to Deserving Sweet Mother!

(©Born Again Pagan, 2008)
Obhusungu bhwarumire…
Excruciating childbirth pains…
but finally you cut the umbilical cord
that connected me to you
when you added me to Earth;
albeit, the umbilical bond attachment
is still there!
Me am the infant
whom you incubated
for nine months;
me am the infant
who grabbed your breasts,
touched and sucked your nipples,
with paradisiacal innocence!
Me am the infant
who contributed
to the flattening
of your breasts,
like ndala (walking sleepers)!
Me is the infant
whom you carried
on your back
in imbogosi (hide baby carrier),
or khanga
to induce my falling asleep.
Me am the infant
to whom you held your hand
below my chin and poured
that nourishing cow milk,
in lieu of the feeding bottle.
Me am the infant
to whom you did that
whenever me failed
to willingly drink the milk
you assiduously offered!
Me is the infant,
who now knows,
you supplemented
my babyish food intake;
closing my nose
to force me swallow
the nourishing milk;
you had to do it the hard way;
tough love!
Me is the infant,
who now knows
mama’s grinding cereals song
in the late afternoons.
In discerning solemn mood
she sang to divorced wife honour
for leaving her kids
with her former husband;
the kids belonged to their baba
not their mama:
Kalimunju (One in the House),
would ask the divorced mama
why she kept on encroaching
upon her marital turf:
Kalimunju wani,
rwibhuro lwandetere,
Kalimunju wani,
rwibhuro lwandetere.
Rwibhuro lwandetere!
Rwibhuro lwandetere!
My Kalimunju,
procreation brings me here!
My Kalimunju,
procreation brings me here!
Procreation brings me here!
Procreation brings me here!

Uplifting Song to Mama Omugumba (Barren)!

(©Born Again Pagan, 2008)

Oh, mama!
your kumeremeta marriage
is both an event, like rain,
and a process that matures over time;
you are married after payment
of ebhirekerwa, lobola or mahari
in full or in instalments
of money and/or livestock,
or no significant mahari
save a showy event
of sumptuous eatables
and drowning drinkables!
Before your husband extracts you
away from your homestead,
you live in seclusion for some days
undergoing utile couching
before your husband
to fulfil his sexual desires
and your marital obligations
to family and community.
You are taken to your husband
expected to complete your marriage
when you give birth;
the expected product
your marriage may not yield,
like a factory process;
a child may be born albino,
you may okusoka inda (miscarry),
or you may be omugumba!
Mama omugumba,
like a barren land-plot,
where nothing grows,
or a barren mango tree
to be cut to dry into firewood,
you become unwanted
amidst modern medical science
and its applied technology spin-offs
of test-tube babying
and surrogate mothering!
You’re unwanted;
you must return to your family
or stay with husband
bearing that social stigma
of obhugumba (barrenness)!
The baby cry incites and
always beacons your obhugumba;
other mothers you envy
carry their children by the ribs
and on their backs by jimbogosi
(hide baby carriers), khanga,
perambulators or modern baby carriers!
Other mothers you envy
nurse their babies
direct from the breasts
often washing the breasts not;
babies suffer from salty sweat
the gruesome chores induce oozing!
Your marriage to end may come
because to bear a child you cannot;
the inability writes a license
for your husband another wife to take!
Mama omugumba,
at hand you don’t have a child
to send for short errands
of firewood collection,
or cereal eating birds to chase away.
Mama omugumba,
you budget and divide
all the daily chores
to prove that you not a failure
or a let down!
Mama omugumba,
at hand you don’t have a child
okwenegesya (to take care of cooking fire
and the food you are cooking)
for your household.
Mama omugumba,
you may summon a small child
from your family or extended network
to live with you,
like your child-born or adopted,
till of age the child to return
to the family again!
Mama omugumba,
you not a curse;
you’re never bewitched;
you need medical counselling
from fibrosis or cervical cancer
you may be only suffering.
Mama omugumba,
you’re the content of a woman
though you exist in humiliated,
marginalized, and neglected context;
you need psychological counselling.
Mama omugumba,
don’t cry to God
for making you omugumba;
cry for women empowerment
to reinstate high your arrested pedestal
to its finest glory!
Mama omugumba,
your soul is that of a human being,
like any other child-bearing woman
in Africa and beyond!