Sunday, March 8, 2015
My Mother and Unpaid Care Work by Ewebiyi Keye James
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This morning, as I looked through my calendar I realised that the International Women Day is today! Then, I began to think about the women in my life – their impact in my life and how well I have appreciated them for the multiple roles they have played. First on the list is my mother, it occurred to me that I have never really written about my mother, though she is late now, but I barely spend a day without thinking about her.
While alive, I fondly called her "moimi", a sizzling way of calling "mummy mi" (in Yoruba) which means my mother. That is my own way of personalizing her; she is mine and no one else's. As I reminisced over the different roles she played in my life and the vacuum her departure created, I was moved to tears. If there is nothing I can do for her in death, there is a lot I can do for the mothers alive, hence this article. I grew up in a family of three, my elder sister, my younger brother and I. My mother was a disciplinarian, a no-nonsense kind of woman – one who frowns at indiscipline, laziness, carelessness and any other thing that can be considered evil for a child to do. But within this encapsulation lie a caring, workaholic and enterprising mother.
While growing up, I can't really remember washing my dirty clothes; she was always there to do the laundry with the assistance of my sister. She never allowed us wear a cloth twice even when everything looks clean. She never patronized a "drycleaner", she did the laundry for every member of the family, except my sister who by custom does her laundry herself and carry out other domestic chores. I really did not appreciate all these until I started washing my clothes upon her demise. I realized how difficult a task it is, washing clothes with hands that were only accustomed to eating and writing. At a much older age, I got used to giving out my dirty wears to "drycleaners" (especially when the lazy me comes to life) who charge exorbitantly for every item washed. Those tasks I considered ignorable now take a huge chunk of my slim take-home pay.
As a child growing up in an impoverished society, my love for food was unparalleled. Spending the early part of my childhood in the village had already built a "gourmand" in me. Living in the village availed me unlimited access to anything edible – from free falling fruits, roasted corns to well-rounded balls of "eba", no thanks to the generosity of my late grandmother. On returning to the city, my increasing appetite was well satisfied by my mother. She would spend hours in the kitchen, cooking for the family and at times relatives and family friends, and of course with the help of my sister. I was never allowed near the cooking stove and of course the cooking pot. Often times, I complained bitterly, albeit silently over late cooking and delayed meals, and wished we had a cooking machine or any other thing that could make the cooking faster. I failed to value the effort she put into turning ordinary rice grains into delicious plate of fried rice and chicken until I started eating half-cooked rice in those "Mama Put" canteens and "concoction rice" in my little closet.
My mother was very enterprising. In fact, anything enterprising about me was gotten from her. Despite not completing her secondary school education, she was very good at business management and customer relations. At different times, she was a clothier, trader and restaurateur. I could recall her, waking up in the wee hours of the morning; carrying out domestic chores and setting out for the business of the day. She would close from her shop early, much earlier than her male competitors to prepare dinner for us. And this was her routine for many years. My mother was many things to me – she was first my mother, and then my friend, fan, counsellor, teacher, cook, washer man, nurse, and also wife to my father. She was a typical African woman. She went through all that thousands of mothers go through every day. Many of the day-to-day tasks she carried out constitute what is called "Unpaid care work".
Unpaid care work includes all those activities that go towards caring for a household such as cooking, cleaning, collecting water and firewood, caring for the ill, elderly and children, carried out by family members without pay. In this part of the world, women carry out more than eighty percent of unpaid care work. My mother and sister did basically everything that can be called "work" in the house. I was occasionally called up to sweep the floors which I always do to the chagrin of my mother whose thirst for cleanliness can never be met by anyone except her.
Our society undermines the time and effort expended by women on taking care of the home while the actions and inactions of government and other policymakers continue to widen the inequality gap that exist between men and women. There is a high opportunity cost for every work done by women in the house. The hours spent in the kitchen, laundry room, farm, stream and market could have been spent assessing education, employment and other activities capable of emancipating them from poverty, economic dependence and ignorance. And then these efforts are oftentimes not appreciated. I have seen men who have instituted a master-servant relationship between themselves and their wives. The wife does all the cooking and they do all the eating. And then they boastfully and unashamedly affirm that women get the reward for all their hard labours in bed – sexual satisfaction they say.
The burden of unpaid care work places the Nigerian woman in a more precarious situation. After competing with the more advantaged men in the workspace or marketplace, they return home to another round of energy sapping works. There is little or no time for leisure and recreation. The chances of Nigerian women rising above the poverty line are far slimmer than the men. While the men think about how to make money and pursue money-making ideas, most women are pre-occupied with thoughts of what to cook, what the kids will wear to school the next morning, and most times, how to manage the stipend left for family upkeep.
There is a lot we can do to make life better for these women. We can begin to recognize their efforts and appreciate their impact in our lives, and provide compensation where possible. However, this compensation should not be given as "pity gift" but as a seed of empowerment. We can also commit to redistributing unpaid care work among household members. Men can take up chores popularly regarded as women's and share tasks fairly among male and female children. It is not enough for us to tell the women in our lives how much we love them every now and then, it is more important for us to translate that professed love into actions that would give them a huge relief and alleviate their sufferings.
Governments must also recognize unpaid care work as a crucial economic activity central to our survival and prosperity as a nation. The burden of unpaid care work would be more reduced if government provides adequate and functional public facilities particularly those connected to the day-to-day activities of women and other active care givers in the society. Availability of good roads and bridges would mean that women would not have to trek long distances to access their farmlands and market for their produce. Stable power supply would avail women the opportunity to run labour-saving machines and manage their homes more efficiently. The presence of functional and accessible public healthcare facilities in communities would reduce the time women spend in taking care of sick family members and have more time for productive activities.
My mother enjoyed the full support of my father. He admired her enterprising disposition and gave her the much needed support. While she failed at some business endeavours, he never reneged on his commitment to her empowerment. That is the kind of husband I want to be to my future wife; showing her love and supporting her dreams and more importantly sharing the burden of unpaid care work.
When we empower women, we empower humanity. Please let us make it happen! Happy International Women's Day!
Ewebiyi Keye James
Tel: +234 (0) 7064981943 , +234 (0) 8088902609
Email: keyeewebiyi@yahoo.com, keyeewebiyi@gmail.com
Twitter: @Keyestine l FB: www.facebook.com/ewebiyikeye
Skype: Keyestine l Blog: keyeewebiyi.blogspot.com l Instagram: Kekstar1 Google+: google.com/+EwebiyiKeyeJames
This morning, as I looked through my calendar I realised that the International Women Day is today! Then, I began to think about the women in my life – their impact in my life and how well I have appreciated them for the multiple roles they have played. First on the list is my mother, it occurred to me that I have never really written about my mother, though she is late now, but I barely spend a day without thinking about her.
While alive, I fondly called her "moimi", a sizzling way of calling "mummy mi" (in Yoruba) which means my mother. That is my own way of personalizing her; she is mine and no one else's. As I reminisced over the different roles she played in my life and the vacuum her departure created, I was moved to tears. If there is nothing I can do for her in death, there is a lot I can do for the mothers alive, hence this article. I grew up in a family of three, my elder sister, my younger brother and I. My mother was a disciplinarian, a no-nonsense kind of woman – one who frowns at indiscipline, laziness, carelessness and any other thing that can be considered evil for a child to do. But within this encapsulation lie a caring, workaholic and enterprising mother.
While growing up, I can't really remember washing my dirty clothes; she was always there to do the laundry with the assistance of my sister. She never allowed us wear a cloth twice even when everything looks clean. She never patronized a "drycleaner", she did the laundry for every member of the family, except my sister who by custom does her laundry herself and carry out other domestic chores. I really did not appreciate all these until I started washing my clothes upon her demise. I realized how difficult a task it is, washing clothes with hands that were only accustomed to eating and writing. At a much older age, I got used to giving out my dirty wears to "drycleaners" (especially when the lazy me comes to life) who charge exorbitantly for every item washed. Those tasks I considered ignorable now take a huge chunk of my slim take-home pay.
As a child growing up in an impoverished society, my love for food was unparalleled. Spending the early part of my childhood in the village had already built a "gourmand" in me. Living in the village availed me unlimited access to anything edible – from free falling fruits, roasted corns to well-rounded balls of "eba", no thanks to the generosity of my late grandmother. On returning to the city, my increasing appetite was well satisfied by my mother. She would spend hours in the kitchen, cooking for the family and at times relatives and family friends, and of course with the help of my sister. I was never allowed near the cooking stove and of course the cooking pot. Often times, I complained bitterly, albeit silently over late cooking and delayed meals, and wished we had a cooking machine or any other thing that could make the cooking faster. I failed to value the effort she put into turning ordinary rice grains into delicious plate of fried rice and chicken until I started eating half-cooked rice in those "Mama Put" canteens and "concoction rice" in my little closet.
My mother was very enterprising. In fact, anything enterprising about me was gotten from her. Despite not completing her secondary school education, she was very good at business management and customer relations. At different times, she was a clothier, trader and restaurateur. I could recall her, waking up in the wee hours of the morning; carrying out domestic chores and setting out for the business of the day. She would close from her shop early, much earlier than her male competitors to prepare dinner for us. And this was her routine for many years. My mother was many things to me – she was first my mother, and then my friend, fan, counsellor, teacher, cook, washer man, nurse, and also wife to my father. She was a typical African woman. She went through all that thousands of mothers go through every day. Many of the day-to-day tasks she carried out constitute what is called "Unpaid care work".
Unpaid care work includes all those activities that go towards caring for a household such as cooking, cleaning, collecting water and firewood, caring for the ill, elderly and children, carried out by family members without pay. In this part of the world, women carry out more than eighty percent of unpaid care work. My mother and sister did basically everything that can be called "work" in the house. I was occasionally called up to sweep the floors which I always do to the chagrin of my mother whose thirst for cleanliness can never be met by anyone except her.
Our society undermines the time and effort expended by women on taking care of the home while the actions and inactions of government and other policymakers continue to widen the inequality gap that exist between men and women. There is a high opportunity cost for every work done by women in the house. The hours spent in the kitchen, laundry room, farm, stream and market could have been spent assessing education, employment and other activities capable of emancipating them from poverty, economic dependence and ignorance. And then these efforts are oftentimes not appreciated. I have seen men who have instituted a master-servant relationship between themselves and their wives. The wife does all the cooking and they do all the eating. And then they boastfully and unashamedly affirm that women get the reward for all their hard labours in bed – sexual satisfaction they say.
The burden of unpaid care work places the Nigerian woman in a more precarious situation. After competing with the more advantaged men in the workspace or marketplace, they return home to another round of energy sapping works. There is little or no time for leisure and recreation. The chances of Nigerian women rising above the poverty line are far slimmer than the men. While the men think about how to make money and pursue money-making ideas, most women are pre-occupied with thoughts of what to cook, what the kids will wear to school the next morning, and most times, how to manage the stipend left for family upkeep.
There is a lot we can do to make life better for these women. We can begin to recognize their efforts and appreciate their impact in our lives, and provide compensation where possible. However, this compensation should not be given as "pity gift" but as a seed of empowerment. We can also commit to redistributing unpaid care work among household members. Men can take up chores popularly regarded as women's and share tasks fairly among male and female children. It is not enough for us to tell the women in our lives how much we love them every now and then, it is more important for us to translate that professed love into actions that would give them a huge relief and alleviate their sufferings.
Governments must also recognize unpaid care work as a crucial economic activity central to our survival and prosperity as a nation. The burden of unpaid care work would be more reduced if government provides adequate and functional public facilities particularly those connected to the day-to-day activities of women and other active care givers in the society. Availability of good roads and bridges would mean that women would not have to trek long distances to access their farmlands and market for their produce. Stable power supply would avail women the opportunity to run labour-saving machines and manage their homes more efficiently. The presence of functional and accessible public healthcare facilities in communities would reduce the time women spend in taking care of sick family members and have more time for productive activities.
My mother enjoyed the full support of my father. He admired her enterprising disposition and gave her the much needed support. While she failed at some business endeavours, he never reneged on his commitment to her empowerment. That is the kind of husband I want to be to my future wife; showing her love and supporting her dreams and more importantly sharing the burden of unpaid care work.
When we empower women, we empower humanity. Please let us make it happen! Happy International Women's Day!
Ewebiyi Keye James
Tel: +234 (0) 7064981943 , +234 (0) 8088902609
Email: keyeewebiyi@yahoo.com, keyeewebiyi@gmail.com
Twitter: @Keyestine l FB: www.facebook.com/ewebiyikeye
Skype: Keyestine l Blog: keyeewebiyi.blogspot.com l Instagram: Kekstar1 Google+: google.com/+EwebiyiKeyeJames
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