Moms are the Best

Post site-visit has been more and more Setswana in the mornings, followed by celebrating Botswana’s 50^th independence with an amazing potluck thrown by one of my fellow volunteers, and more sessions on administrative policies, design and facilitation of projects/programs, a PCV discussion panel, a PCV resources fair, and an amazing party that we threw in honor of our host families.

So I’m going to tell a side story, because I love telling them. Jacob, my host brother from another mother, came as one of my guests along with Mama Modisenyane (I have a whole section I want to dedicate to this angel). Now Jacob and I bonded over music. He loves Fetty Wap, Tupac, Rihanna, the occasional Taylor Swift pop song, the Weekend, and etc. I was told by Bibi the very first day I came home that Jacob is an extremely shy kid, he won’t talk much, and he will keep me at a distance. I told her, “Bibi I have magical powers. I will get him to talk to me and he and I will be friends don’t worry.” Sounds a bit creepy actually now that I recall what I said by verbatim, but I knew I wanted a close-knit bond with my family, and he was family. I would like to attribute the spark of our friendship to Fetty’s “Come my way”. Thanks Fetty. Fast forward to the party. My cohort all got together and wrote letters to our host families. We had to walk down the main aisle to receive and give our letters to our host family representatives in front of the whole group. As Jacob received my letter of praise that we all wrote dedicated to our host families to read, we both proceeded to pound and dab as I oodled down the line. (Oodling is what I call the Botswana cheer that women do when celebrating or providing support). People were complimenting me left and right about how cool my brother was, and how endearing our bond seemed. My heart was beaming. Also that day I was proud to bring honor to my family by volunteering to say the prayer, Our Father “Thapelo ya Morena” in Setswana. My mama and brother hopefully enjoyed it, they know I was practicing relentlessly to get the gs to sound like hs and rhythm of the prayer down just right. And at the end, I looked straight into Mama’s eyes and she was overjoyed. I can’t stress how important that moment was, to bring honor to someone who is so faithful and loving. More on Mama Mo later on.

From the party, I presented a final project with my fabulous partners (fellow volunteers in my sector) on a demonstration of facilitating a support group for adolescent females on sex/the female condom. I basically dressed up and talked as a female condom for the whole session while singing “Let’s talk about sex”. It was pretty edutaining. In all seriousness teen pregnancy does impact the HIV/AIDS epidemic, and is a huge issue in keeping girls in school in most of the communities in Botswana.

Fast forward to getting medical supplies on the very last day of PST, hours later then our schedule had anticipated (welcome to Peace Corps where things don’t exactly happen according to plan). Then graduation day arrived. Swearing an oath and allegiance to peace and having honorable speakers, such as, the Kgosi (chief) of Molepolole, the incoming country director, the Ambassador of the United States, the National Coordinator of the National AIDS Coordinating Agency, the Honorable Minister of Basic Education, and the Council Chair were only a few of the highlights. I walked across the stage accepting my pin, shaking hands with all of the honorable speakers trying to find words and process the actual reality of it all. It wasn’t until I was shaking Monica Smith’s (our programming director) hands, and she asked me how I felt that I honestly responded, “I feel like this is a dream I’m about to wake up from. It’s been 6 years that I’ve waited for this to happen, and the day is here.”

After hours of taking photos and losing my Mama in the crowd, I headed home with a feeling of shame and guilt for forgetting to honor my Mama by taking photos with her. I came home and apologized to her a thousand times, to which this angel of mine said, “Nana why are you ashamed? You need to celebrate with your group, and I will just slow you down. We are together now and I am glad you are my daughter.” *Cue crying*.

So this goes out to my Mama, Dineo Modisenyane. I didn’t meet Mama my first day in Molepolole. She had an elective knee replacement procedure, and it was the day of my matching ceremony (the day we were placed with our host families). On this day this amazing woman calls me to greet me and apologize for not being there in person. Like who is this saintly woman?! 4 weeks later Mama has been transported from Johannesburg to Gabarone, and says she will be coming home in a few days. It was a Thursday she decided to surprise the whole family and come with her other son (Yusef* a wonderful Indian who Mama sponsored after he was scammed by a business deal that went wrong leaving him in debt and homeless till he met Mama). 

Mama Mo was not in good shape, she was struggling to sleep with the pain and swelling in her knee, and for the first few days she was vomiting and had no appetite. Regardless she would tell me what I want for breakfast and make sure it was packed, she would make sure I had gotten dished for dinner, and she would ask me to say good morning to her every day. Then she began to walk. She was starting to heal, and begin activities that she did so regularly (washing dishes, ironing clothes, and etc.) From day 1 when we met, Mama told me that regardless of the skin that I am in and where I come from that I am her daughter. That we are all children of God, and we should love one another. Whether we’re black, brown, white, yellow, or blue or whatever. I can affirm that she has treated me as such. Even though day in and day out I would be mentally and emotionally exhausted from sessions, I would still make time to have tea or sit out in the beautiful starry night sky with Mama and talk about our faith, our experiences, our journeys from different parts of the world. I believe in God’s purpose and things happening for a reason, and this season with Mama I know God sent an angel on Earth to watch over me, feed me, house me, and love me for the time I have spent in a brand new foreign place. She made me Motswana, and for that I love her so. I know my Oma’s prayers are being answered about my protection and guidance, because I was placed in the hands of my other Mama Mo. 

Moms are the best, no matter where you go.