Mother In Law
The promulgation of the new Constitution heralded a new era in the history of Kenya. And in a rare spirit of patriotism, citizens forged a united front to support the enactment of the new law. Political and religious swords have been sheathed for another day. The much needed calm swept through the land to the relief of all and sundry. Comparatively, these elections were the most peaceful and well-organized. Despite the charged atmosphere, there were no casualties resulting from the tension.
In a jiffy, life returned to normal and the free movement of people that was partially impaired by the perceived referendum instability, was hurriedly lifted to a rare special guest, whose first time appearance in our residence has Panda and I all excited. Due to her advanced years and frail health, mother had always previously begged to be excused from making the strenuous 400km journey to Nairobi. Upon learning of Panda’s pregnancy however, she took a topsy-turvy turn and decided to brave the perilous journey. According to her, it was abominable for my wife to give birth to our first born before her eyes set on our home. We received her change of mind with profound jubilation and immediately started preparing for her arrival. Not wanting to cause her much travelling discomforts, we had to arrange for a night sleep over at a relative’s place in Nakuru. The next day saw her embark on the remaining journey.
That day saw us dutifully camped at the bus station waiting for her with pent up breath. It seemed like she was taking forever to arrive. ‘Look at you!’ she exclaimed, gesturing at Panda’s pregnancy with adoration. She had just alighted from a matatu. We were glad to see her, and her lively speech and physical robustness added much to the occasion. ‘Wa! The baby is growing so big!’ Mother couldn’t just hide her surprise as she took panda in one giant bear hug. Her loud remarks attracted many eyes in the car park and Panda was turning crimson about that. However, mom was oblivious of the circus. It became apparent that I was not the star attraction when mom barely hugged and muttered a few cordials before she was back to Panda with Her jolly banter. I had to contend with carrying our visitor’s luggage and tag at the rear while the ladies had the time of their lives.
The droning of pleasantries climaxed in a charade of ‘oochs and aaaahs’ as Panda helped mom open her goodie bags filled with all the naturally grown food-stuffs. I could the little hills of arrowroots, sweet potatoes, sorghum, groundnuts and bananas. My heart skipped a bit when mom dug a hand in the farthest corners of her bag and fished a pouch swelling with dried termites. God knew how much I had missed this delicacy. Panda was about to jump away in disbelief, until she saw how I crooned and embraced the package. Certainly, her look betrayed her innocence to the knowledge of what an army of dried ants in a pouch could be useful for. Not even a flood of explanation from mom and I could bring Panda close to even thinking of sampling this alien delicacy. That left me with the sole task of ensuring the consumption of all that was in the pouch. A task I knew would be accomplished with glee and feigned. complaints (of having to partake of the pouch all by myself). Mom explained with pride how she had defied her advanced age handicap to nurture all these crops by herself. And we received with treasured appreciation her gifts knowing how much of herself she had given to see them at our home.
We settled down to a sumptuous meal after everything had been neatly stored away in the pantry. Mom was particularly delighted to be served her favourite vegetable ‘managu’. It had taken Panda a whole day of inquiring to acquire these leafy greens from a greenhouse farmer in Kitisuru. Equally approved was the cooking which mom described as really ‘traditional’. I had to browse through my mind for my mom’s old ‘managu’ recipe then proceed to work it out patiently with Panda. Normally, all vegetables including traditional ones were cooked in a similar way in our home. Fry them in onions, tomatoes among other Arabian spices; a recipe that could have shocked mom’s taste buds. As we chomped happily, we ventured down memory lane, unearthing events that came with my upbringing. We dwelt at length on the sibling rivalry that was as a result of the need for parental attention as well as access to the always-not-enough resources at the time all – the parenting.
My dad worked away from home almost all the time. That saw him become an occasional visitor in his own home. Mom could only describe it as an act of God that we all eventually graduated from universities and were now leading responsible lives. Panda was wide-eyed as she listened to my mom narrate her experience as a parent. This story especially fascinates her. She knows how hard it is to replicate our parent’s lifestyle in the current westernized era. The world has been mobbed by so much pressure from work and education to sustain any half a dozen kids.
Seemingly, the ladies are getting on well. Their conversations are candidly mature and well-balanced. Panda is no longer the shy and nervous girl I had introduced to my kinsmen about two years ago. She has somehow adopted an aura of extroverted self-confidence. Being in her own home has somehow helped in boosting her self-assurance, or so I thought. Then, she was nervous to the point of being jumpy. The fact that my family was to become her future in-laws did nothing to calm her. Coming from a different cultural background, it was going to be an uphill task to blend in with our seemingly extra-territorial way of life. But my wife was determined to create a perfect first time impression. I noted however, that the worry about something going wrong; a burnt meal, a speck in washed laundry or even a wrongly-uttered word brought her much mental misery. My efforts to bring her to relaxation were immediately scoffed at. They were interpreted as negative urgings to drop her guard, a key element to a flawless outcome. Subsequently, her days at the first visit to our home were characterized with the jumpiness of a chimp monk upon sniffing a grizzly bear.
Foresight is a good component to sound judgment. Panda knew that our future marriage could get a shot in the arm if at all her friendship with my family could be quickly bagged. And so she exercised everything within her sphere of influence to nurture this infant camaraderie. I saw her make the first baby steps to speak our native language, in morning greetings and acknowledging back. At first, she had sounded clumsy and off-key. Like a war horn playing an anthem. But consistently, she had managed to bridge the vocabulary and international barrier to achieve a coherent degree, much to her jubilation. She withstood the powerful pungent smell of cowdung to help plaster the mud hut kitchen, her biceps strained under the weight of a giant cooking stick as she prepared ugali for a hungry dozen- and she was excellent at whatever she did.
Her superb streak was briefly paused however, when she tried her hand on milking the family cows. Initially, she had taken to it like fish is to water. Expertly, she had hunched low, with a cup at hand as instructed. Her first squeeze at the turgid tits had yielded a fine jet of white, warm milk spurting into the cup in a frothy cascade. This was repeated severally to the anonymous approval of mother-in-law to be and the older women standing nearby. But even before My efforts to calm her to relaxation were immediately scoffed at.
They were interpreted as negative urgings to drop her guard, a key element to a flawless outcome. they could pull their three-legged stools and settle down for their tete a tete, a squealing shrill pierced the morning serenity. A hungry tsetse fly had dutifully settled on the cow’s soft underbelly to feed. As it sunk its coil-like proboscis through the hide to tap blood, the normally docile cow had responded madly to the searing stinging pain. The bewildered women registered as the cow swung a wild hoof and miss Panda’s chin by a whisker. A terrified Panda dropped everything she had and fled towards the huts, screaming in horror. That was tend of a budding milking career.
‘We love this girl. She will make a wonderful wife for you, my son: was my mother’s testimony in front of all the family present. I could see many more heads in the room nod affirmative. That was two weeks later as we prepared to return to the city. Now here they were daughter and mother; and very good friends. Many times later on, I would sit and observe the team in almost everything. Now that Panda was a member of the family, mom was no longer the patronizing judge looking for abominable flaws. This time, she guided her with the love and affection I had seen her bestow to all my siblings and I. I could have been sworn they were a pair of teen age mates whenever I heard their shrills of laughter emanate from the kitchen. Especially when mum made fun of the first Panda She saw. Their talk was endless, and sometimes in hushed tones. Deep secrets not intended for any male species. Many were the times I deduced the girls wanted to be alone and I happily swiped at the golden opportunity to call on my friend Mike and make up for some lost time.
It was Panda’s time to teach mom some new tricks as well; how to cook traditional foods like irio and muthokoi. So was her calming effect necessary when mom was afraid to cross the busy trafficked super highways and use lifts when we took her to our doctor for some general medical checkup. Although mom’s learning process was not as jittery as Panda’s, I saw how glad my wife was that she was able to be of profound help.
At the end of it all, I enthusiastically concluded that a new mother-daughter bond had been fortified .. She was grateful that she had come. She expressed her shock at what she could have missed had she never ventured beyond her borders to her children’s place. As she packed her bags to go back to her county home, Panda was so sad that the weekend had indeed been so short. There was a tear here and there as they hugged each other good bye. She was unexpectedly mildly nostalgic as soon as the matatu carrying mom left town. Seeing there was little I could have done then to sooth her sense of temporary loss, I just let her lean on my shoulder as we sat in the matatu that took us to our estate.
‘Don’t worry: I tried to cheer her up. ‘We will be seeing them soon.’
She nodded her head appreciatively. I knew that it will take a lot of effort from me to erode my mother’s influence on my queen’s life.
END: PG 36 /22-23