The journal of an evolving Afrikan Feminist
This post is a reflection prompted by Foster’s question on this For Harriet Instagram post: How old were you when you realised your parents were just people? I can’t point to a specific time. I think it was more of a slow realisation, accelerated by adulting. Pre-adulting, my parents were demi-gods in my eyes. They were always right. They…
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I have two mothers. I call one mummy and the other mum. Mummy birthed me but they both raised and continue to support me. Both are married to my father. However, polygyny has little to do with the reason I consider them both my mothers. Rather, it has more to do with the outcome of…
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Mama They tell me I have a nice sense of style I smile remembering your words,” Stop wrapping yourself like a sausage,Chebet!” The words out of many that you uttered as you tried to change my drab style The one I had acquired from years of studying and wanting to conform to the narrow views…
Read MoreI remember this one night when I was feverish… Mummy took a bowl with cold water, dunked a face towel in it, wringed it and placed it on my heating up body… She then gave me some calpol and the fever left (or so remembers my mind)… And so when I had fever today I…
Read MoreAh! Purple Hibiscus aunts, you mamas are my unsung sheroes and for your sake I will break down purple Hibiscus aunt because I don’t think you even notice that you are it. Purple Hibiscus aunt, a term I came up with after I read Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda. Now, moment of silence to celebrate and…
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