Mother's Day, Malawi Style (Oct 20)

Seems like there is a holiday at least once or twice a month, most of which are just an excuse not to go work work. Looks like Mother’s Day in Malawi is no different. So the kids, who were let off of school, came over to watch me while I was cooking. I told them how Mother’s Day works in America, how kids make cards for their moms that say “I Love You” and blah blah. I asked if they wanted to do that, which received a resounding yes. I dug out the crayons and some paper, which I folded into cards for them. Turns out the joy of scribbling on any flat surface with crayons is universal. It wasn’t long before they were all lining up to let me fawn over their stick-munthus (people) and purple galimotos (cars) and box-shaped nyumbas (houses). And, of course, it only took five seconds of my absence for the youngest of the bunch to take Mustard Yellow to my porch with a scribbling vengeance.

They loved it, though. They giggled uncontrollably at my praise of their use of colors and their depiction of stick-chickens. When I told them one picture was especially good they would quickly show their masterpiece to anyone who would look and chatter excitedly. It was really sweet; warm fuzzy feelings all around.

It made me think that maybe they aren’t given praise very often. In fact, I know it. It must have really been something for them to get a smile and a pat on the back from an adult. Few of them have both parents around, and when they are, they are too busy doing other things to tell their children their efforts are noticed. Most children spend most of their time with grandparents or other siblings, who do most of the childrearing while parents are working. And besides, children are there to do the menial tasks anyway; carrying water, sweeping the yard, cleaning the house, and doing the dishes and the laundry. If they are drawing pictures with crayons or anything creative, they’re probably in the way or shirking their chores. If you think that’s sad, it is. It really is. That is one thing I’ll give Malawi. One of the few things they should truly be pitied for. Their children don’t often get the attention and the praise they deserve. Maybe if they did, they wouldn’t all grow up to be teen parents…