Mothers’ battle of wits

By Lulu Cherono

Everyone was itching to hold the baby but my mother-in-law seemed unwilling to let go. I saw my mother fidgeting. Then, without warning, she ‘grabbed’ the baby from my mother-in-law who, taken by surprise, let her have Bahati.

"Open your eyes my little grandson… oh how your lips look like my daughter’s..."

What was this obsession with looks? I wondered as I watched the two women’s war of wits.

The men started discussing politics and the upcoming referendum. There were ‘Greens’ and ‘Reds’ in the house and their animated arguments made the sitting room lively. I commented on the discussion although my eyes were constantly trained on my little one.

Since giving birth to him, I had not taken this long without holding him close to my bosom. Already, 20 minutes has passed and I was surprised he was not crying for his mummy?

I prayed quietly for ‘Ba’ to unleash one of his trademark screams for attention so that I could get him back, but he looked comfortable with his grandmothers. His eyes were closed and his fists tightly clenched.

Done the round

Everyone in the room burst out laughing and I realised I had missed the train so I just smiled along sheepishly.

After what seemed like an eternity, ‘Ba’ was back in my arms. He had done the round, starting from his grandmothers who had had their ‘fill’ kissing and playing with him, to the rest of the guests.

Both my breasts were heavy and crying for relief so I sat at a corner in the dining room. David and Neema followed and sat next to me.

Neema unclipped the right bra and ‘Ba’ glued his mouth to the breast and started gulping down the contents. When did he become such an expert? Fortunately, I have never had problems producing milk.

‘Ba’ was barely two minutes into feeding when I realised my left breast was pouring milk and had soiled my blouse. Just as well I was away from my guests who were now enjoying the lunch. With my two older children in toe, I went back to my bedroom to change, of course with ‘Ba’ still clutched to my breast. The movement didn’t disrupt his grip or choke him. I realised this was going to be the routine.

By night time, all the guests had left except for my mother-in-law who I knew was staying on for two weeks.

Without house help and still nursing an unhealed wound, I began to mentally prepare myself for the Herculean task of simultaneously entertaining her and taking care of a newborn.