Because tomorrow isn’t promised

A mother is dead and sections of the community are attempting to rally around the family to help raise the children. For days now people have been recalling that it takes a village to raise a child.

The present state of affairs has caused me to rip, from last Friday’s Agender, D Gisele Isaac’s musings, that “when donkey min done walk the earth he come back an say e nah level.”

I’m reminded that as much as we want to postulate about the family (the nuclear family to be exact) and as much as there are people who keep saying men are marginalised without asking how they have marginalised themselves, parenthood is more than often synonymous with motherhood. Participatory fatherhood is, too often, a pleasant surprise.

When the bough breaks…

Among all the bad news surrounding crime, criminals, and victims lately, two unrelated media stories brought some hope that the people of this country have not yet conceded. 

First, there was an article relating the story of two young men, brothers, brought before the court on charges related to the possession of marijuana-laced sugarcake and – get this – reported to the police by their mother!  Then, there was the Tales from the Motherhood story of another mother who, in an effort to steer her teenage son on the right and safe track, belaboured him with blows until she, herself, collapsed exhausted. 

We are not about to enter the debate over the pros and cons of corporal punishment; for, as has been said, we have all been there and had it done unto us, and there are many who will testify that they are the better for it and some who will declare otherwise.