Suffering without bitterness – in the name of parenting

Her easy manner and smile put one at ease, making conversation with her a pleasant experience. Christine Vulimu is a mother and a teacher. Her daughters and pupils, continually shape her as she shapes them. Christine is pragmatic. She believes in moving on to the next thing without dwelling too much on what has been. This is not to say she does not bask in success or grieve over losses, whether her own or of people near and dear to her. It simply means that she takes what she considers the appropriate amount of time to feel, and then immerse herself back into life.

Younger Christine
Her realistic perspective is also evident in the fact that she is a primary school teacher. As a young girl, Christine felt that the teachers in her primary school were not attentive and may have even been callous to the less gifted children-of whom she was one In her own words; ‘My academic performance was at best average,’ she says ‘There is nothing wrong with average, the world is run by the average person as much as it is by those who made the best grades in school,’ she says, pointing at the many glittering shops and restaurants at the mall, where we are having this interview. ‘Doctors are in hospitals, teachers in class and pilots in planes, meanwhile who do you think is the entrepreneur running these businesses?’ I cannot help but think hers is a valid question.

Consequently, she developed an interest in dealing with young pupils. To harness whatever potential they had instead of being so harsh as to sometimes kill their spirit.

But fate chose a longer route for her. ‘My Initial post high school training was in Lab Technology at the Kenya Polytechnic On completion, I was posted to work in school labs. My work meant interacting with the likes of test tubes. However, seeing the students around me rekindled my desire to teach and be different from my teachers.’

‘Then one day, as I was leaving Kenyatta National Hospital (KNH) where I had gone for a routine check up, I bumped into my high school headmistress. That was nothing short of a miracle,’ Christine happily narrates; because, she just could not stop thinking of what to do to become a teacher.

‘I thanked God silently and went to talk to her, expressing my wish to go for teacher training,’ she says. Sure enough, she pointed her in the right direction.

The often used phrase, ‘the rest is history’, applies here as well. In two weeks, Christine had an admission letter to Mosoriot Teachers College, Eldoret. ‘My husband was stunned, but supported the move nevertheless.

I knew that if I let my mind think about home, my children and husband, I would not complete my studies So, I threw myself into my studies and those years -1983 to 85 – flew by,’ articulates the teacher with passion, every line on her face reflecting gratitude for that opportunity.

By the end of 1985. Christine was back in Nairobi, a trained primary school teacher.  She was posted to Valley Bridge, a City Council primary school, where she taught for two years.

Christine is now based at Thika Road Christian School where she has taught for 24 years now.  Her motherliness spills into her profession which sees tier write letters to her pupils and make them little trinkets. She tells me about some little mementos she has made for her class; each with their name and the name’s meaning. ‘I looked in the Bible, I googled, I read through books … and came up with a meaning of each of my pupils’ names,’ she explains with ease, ‘Just for the pupils to know that they are destined for greatness’.

She has made it her business to understand each child, their backgrounds, parents and general environment so that she knows how best to handle each ‘I talk with them, visit their homes – during the last holiday, I went to 14 out of 29 homes,’ recounts Christine who teaches Kiswahili and CRE in Standard Eight. Interestingly, she requested to teach Standard Two class too, to just jell with the children when they are younger

Family bells
Then there was some news. News that one of her twin daughters, Rachael, had special needs. The news that the girl would never crawl, never mention she was hungry or mutter ‘I love you mum’; never sneak out to play; never achieve a big dream – like the one Christine was living now, never go out on a date  because she was totally handicapped. Christine attributes this to the suction delivery she had gone through, which apparently tampered with Rachael’s brain. This had interfered with her developmental milestones. One of the most trying moments is when her brain could not issue chewing and swallowing instructions. So a pipe had to be inserted at the base of her throat, where Christine fed her through.

But Christine took it all in her stride. The rest of the family members followed suit, and they all attended to Rachael accordingly. ‘We had a very nice and mature house-help which was necessary because of Rachael’s special needs, ‘which she effectively attended to. Ruth, her twin-sister, was slow to walk because she liked to sit with her sister,’ Christine calmly recalls.

A handful of milestones were celebrated. Rachael was everyone’s best person m the house. Her movements were a story. Her gentle feathery touch was the longest ‘I love you’. She was the first stop over when the members came to the house. They say God has many languages, Rachael’s was the most special – highly engaging, exceptionally captivating – the gooos, and the gaahs… would make you want to listen to her forever.  So any time she was more silent than usual because she was unwell, it would be evident on everyone’s face. And that was a perfect family of four until nine years later.

That time, Rachael got a fever and her movements became less. The medics put in their usual fervent effort. Family and friends hoped and prayed, but Racheal had to move on to the best place, Christine says, adding, ‘But slowly but surely, God filled that gap perfectly’.  The Vulimu’s overcame the grief, and Racheal has been a beautiful memory.

So when Christine’s body signaled pregnancy in 1989, the doctor advised drastic measures. For a recurrence of the previous not to happen, she had to pack her bags and relocate to Kenyatta National Hospital where she was admitted for seven months, for round the dock observation. She didn’t brood and curse but instead took in a deep breath and made herself comfortable within the white-washed walls, white clothed attendants, among a number of health challenged people and the ever-present whiff of antiseptic.

Just lying there on her bed, she says, would have been her worst experience but she turned it around. And going by her optimism, it wasn’t that bad. The bubbly, gentle yet strong-spoken Christine revelled in catching up with her lost friends – who now often visited with her, and basking under her husband’s TLA (Tender Loving Attention) who came by everyday. And when they left, you can be sure that her personality served her just well, because she made bosom-buddies with the other patients and the hospital staff; some of whom she has kept to date.

She eventually delivered her second set of twins. Patience and Mercy in August, 1989. Why did she wait 10 years, I ask. ‘The gap is not about lack of trying,’ she chuckles. Once, twice, thrice, she had gotten all the signs – morning sickness, crazy likes and dislikes, indicating that she was heavy with child. The atmosphere was adjusted – baby booties knitted, finances stashed aside, maternity frocks sorted and she herself beaming in the common pregnancy glow.

But she would soon get concerned about her home never getting squeaky clean She’d shine the pans, disinfect the garbage can, scrub under the seats, wash and air the bedding, clean the compound – but there was this constant unfriendly smell. .. Her gynae told her what the problem was. The baby in her was no more; three times in a row. Hypertension was the culprit.

‘I had given up on babies. It, however, did not worry me because I had my Ruth who accompanied me all the time. We even went to the same school’ she laughs ‘But I would be dishonest if I gave the impression that I did not feel any pain or fear all through the miscarriages, she explains straightening up.  ‘Each time I got pregnant, l feared it would be another handicap. Then after the first miscarriage, the pain of losing the baby made me scared of getting pregnant. The doctors feared for my life too. They were not sure that I could carry a baby to term.  Severe hypertension and cervical incompetence meant a risk of another miscarriage. In fact, one doctor had advised termination after he discovered I was expectant with the second set of twins, and I had seriously considered it. I am grateful it turned out different,’ she sighs.

I have learnt
‘Any situation is as big or small as you make it I was determined that Rachael would never be a bother to me. that I would raise her as any other child My heart feels for a mother of a child with special needs. I understand when they are unable to talk about it. My advice is not to ever feel ashamed of the child,’ enlightens Christine.

Raising oh raising!
‘There is absolutely no formula. Ruth and I are best friends. We had our moments though I like writing. The longest letter I ever wrote was to Ruth when it looked like our relationship was doomed. I wrote 20 pages which covered the period I was expecting her. through taking her to school, to where she was now a teacher. Then I attached pictures of all those past years, sealed and sent the fat envelope by courier to her school. That has firmed our bond with the most super of the glues. Patience and Mercy are my friends too We have dramatic times in between Who knows… maybe they too will get a 20-page letter,’ she says, laughing We are so knit together that my son-in-law (Ruth is married and has a son) is not sure which bond is stronger: mother and daughter’s or Ruth and her best friends’

Patience and Mercy are now in university training to be teachers. Their elder sister is a teacher too

Trudging on
The articulate and obviously charismatic communicator, who exudes the passion to simplify humanity’s life by availing truths to them, has further attended classes at a counselling centre. She is in turn running counselling services under the name Tulizo Counselling Services The knowledge and wisdom she has collected along the way have given her many platforms, the latest being the Nairobi Baptist Church in November 2010. This brought together divorced and separated parents and their children under the banner of ‘God also loves the divorced and separated’.

Teaching, counseling and raising her girls and grandson; is Christine in a nutshell.

END: PG38/18-20

Leave a Comment

You must be logged in to post a comment.