As I catwalk through my second year of motherhood, I can't help but think aloud about the most efficient family planning method in this generation. One with zero side effects and is neither popped, injected nor planted into the body. As a matter of fact, it works perfectly outside the body. It is none other than Domestic managers!
I must say I am among the very few lucky mothers who have held on to a domestic manager for two years and still counting yet we have never crossed paths, not even once. Of course except for the time I was still expectant and living in a single room sharing a bed with her. This lady's body takes the shape of letter Q when sleeping yet an expectant mother's body takes all shapes.
You can imagine two adults sleeping in a 3 x 6 bed and both of them taking shapes of two capital letters. On one occasion my moods directed me to ask her why she was sharing with me my bed yet she was not my husband. Thank God she understood my mood swings and stuck with me through thick and thin. I know the curious you now wants to ask me where the man of the house was during all this time, if you get an answer, kindly share with me because I have no idea too.
Anyway, back to our family planning method. These people have found a way of holding women hostage in their own homes. The pressure you get from this lot can make your fallopian tubes faint willingly or unwillingly. Your ovaries will take another route and head towards the back of your head through your backbone causing you migraines and backaches that have no cure.
While some of them have perfected the art of shocking you with their exit on a chilly working day full of deadlines, others have found a way of making you risk your life by boarding motorbikes to beat traffic as you rush to an empty house after receiving threatening messages from them while at work. A missed call from your domestic manager or better still nanny is enough to send you into labour whether expectant or not.
So you can imagine what a threatening message would do to you. Imagine you are busy going through your duties at work when suddenly you receive a message telling you "Nimewacha mtoto kwa bedroom, nimerudi kwetu". The baby in question is barely a year and you wonder what human being in their right senses would leave such a baby unattended.
To make it worse, you do not have any neighbour's contact, you live the typical city life where you barely know who your neighbour is. That's the time you know that apart from being a mother, you can also be a biker, and a very fast one for that matter. The moment you get home to your baby, you swear never to even shake a man's hand if at all it will lead to another baby. You start sympathising with expectant mothers as you try to imagine what future awaits them.
Gone are the days when the domestic managers would blend into the family and even become part of them at some point. I remember as a child referring to our domestic manager as 'aunty'. Try that with the current mothers or domestic managers and you will know why goats have a limited tail that points towards their maker.
No mother wants to 'impose' relation where there isn't and vice versa. The same women who have employed the domestic managers view them more as cowives than as employees. This has led the domestic managers to retaliate by ensuring they hold everything hostage including innocent ovaries and sperms. I know of women who are practising family planning all because of the nasty experiences they have undergone in the hands of domestic managers.
As for me and my ovaries, their wishes will always be our commands.
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