Oh African Woman

Being a woman comes with many privileges- and many responsibilities. If you are among the generation that was born before woman lib hit Kenya after the Beijing Women’s Conference, then you must have been taught, actively or passively, the role of a woman in the home. She sweeps, she cleans, she washes, she cooks, irons, fetches water, goes to the market… Even with modernity quickly taking over every sphere including the home, you will soon have to reconcile yourself with the idea that you are expected to be the family caretaker. Girl in DC a few months ago was talking about Kenyan men who won’t cook. I do not blame them- or her. According to the social, spiritual and psychological set up in Kenya, a man is not expected to cook. The kitchen is “her” domain.

Being an African woman therefore ends up being quite a tall order for many of us. Growing up we wanted to climb trees, trap birds, chase after squirrels, ride handmade cars down steep slopes, swing on trees, do somersaults on the grass and do a little kickboxing and wrestling with our then perceived enemies. This was met with a stern look of disapproval. Girls do not behave like that. We were told. They were supposed to be helping their mama’s, taking a keen interest in the kitchen, and doing a little practice on the side with used tins and soil.  A little older and we were expected to help take care of our brothers and fathers when mama was not around. We grew up, moved away from home and luckily (or unluckily) we learnt to take care of us alone.

But even with that the list of expectations did not grow shorter. Every time we came short of society’s expectation of a woman, we were frowned upon and made to feel guilty. What kind of a woman has to order a take out instead of cooking? What do you mean you get a mama to do your washing for you? What do you mean you do not know how to change diapers? To be honest, these are not supposed to be achievements. Having been brought up in the above setting, it embarrasses me to hear a woman talk about how she has never washed a single piece of cloth in her 30 years. But it doesn’t stop me from wanting to scream at society top expecting us to be super women.

There will always be men and women who can maintain a cleaner home or closet than us. Let us admit it- at times it is fun to dump those clothes on the floor without thinking about who will pick them up the next day. We arte totally lost on how to maintain a sparkling kitchen, even with no kids in sight. Not all of us can whip a meal for five in ten minutes out of an almost empty fridge. With a full one, some of us are still lost for ideas. Even when we cook, we get our tomatoes, carrots, meat, potatoes, cabbage, parsley, and onions already chopped. Birthday cakes are bought from the supermarket complete with the icing. At times it is more convenient to buy new socks for our kids than try to find clean ones in their messy rooms. Let’s face it- we are no Martha Stewart and even with years of reading Kanyeki’s column, our homes are forever in the need of a makeover.

As if to add to my depression, I received this email from a friend who was supposedly appreciating the woman.

“Mum and Dad were watching TV when Mum said, “I’m tired, and it’s getting late. I think I’ll go to bed.”
She went to the kitchen to make sandwiches for the next day’s lunches. Rinsed out the popcorn bowls, took meat out of the freezer for supper the following evening, checked the cereal box levels, filled the sugar container, put spoons and bowls on the
table and started the coffee pot for brewing the next morning.
She then put some wet clothes in the dryer, put a load of clothes into the washer, ironed a shirt and secured a loose button. She picked up the game pieces left on the table, put the phone back on the charger and put the telephone book into the drawer.
She watered the plants, emptied a wastebasket and hung up a towel to dry. She yawned and stretched and headed for the bedroom.
She stopped by the desk and wrote a note to the teacher, counted out some  cash  for the excursion and pulled a text book out from hiding under the chair. She signed a birthday card for a friend, addressed and stamped the envelope and wrote a quick note for the grocery store.
She put both near her bag Mum then washed her face with 3 in 1 cleanser, put on her Night Solution & age fighting moisturizer, brushed and flossed her teeth and filed her nails.
Dad called out, “I thought you were going to bed.”  “I’m on my way,” she said.
She put some water into the dog’s dish and put the cat outside, then made sure the doors were locked and the patio light was on.
She looked in on each of the kids and turned out their bedside lamps and radios, hung up a shirt, threw some dirty socks into the hamper, and had a brief conversation with the one up still doing homework.
In her own room, she set the alarm; laid out clothing for the next day, straightened up the shoe rack.
She added three things to her 6 most important things to do list. She said her prayers, and visualized the accomplishment of her goals.
About that time, Dad turned off the TV and announced to no one in  particular. “I’m going to bed.” And he did…without another thought.”

Ouch, we may have been made for the long haul but some of us just want to prop our feet on the settee and watch J-Lo classics while someone does the handing out of whatever we need.