I recently found out that Daddy reads my blog posts. He noticed that I had not written anything in a while and asked if I was still at it. So, this is me going at it again.
1 - -> You need a stay-at-home maid
If you live out of Africa [and not in pre 20th century Europe or the Americas], you may not understand this notion. However, if you live on this, my continent, you know that the norm is, after you have the first child, you have to have a maid on call, all day and night. It is as if African women do not know how to be themselves after the trauma of child birth. The maid must wash the clothes, clean the house, attend to the baby, make sure the house is quiet when you nap, cook food and everything else the brain can imagine. Apparently, African women, after birth, are incapable of any amount of labour [pun intended].
I made it very clear to the husband that I was not [and might never be] ready to have a stranger move in and observe my every move. So far, he had shown that he was a great judge of character for the house help. He’d selected a yard guy, who was devoted to our yard and dogs, as well as a cleaning lady, who is willing to let us switch up the weekly cleaning schedule if we need to. So, I was not worried about finding a person. I just felt that I liked my privacy a bit too much to worry about bumping into a stranger in my night gown [or not] at 9 pm.
However, I had to go back to work a week after a caesarean birth. I do not mean, sit-at-a-computer-all-day-and-get-sore-eyes-from-bright-screens work. I spend my days shifting sacks and baskets of vegetables; or ferrying 20-litre jerrycans of juice; or standing over machines as I make several litres of juice. During the pregnancy, I routinely got dizzy from work and had to take several breaks a day in order to get through it [but this is eating into another point]. I was still bleeding and would scream bloody murder if I was 30 minutes late in taking my pain medication. I needed help.
However, I had to go back to work a week after a caesarean birth. I do not mean, sit-at-a-computer-all-day-and-get-sore-eyes-from-bright-screens work. I spend my days shifting sacks and baskets of vegetables; or ferrying 20-litre jerrycans of juice; or standing over machines as I make several litres of juice. During the pregnancy, I routinely got dizzy from work and had to take several breaks a day in order to get through it [but this is eating into another point]. I was still bleeding and would scream bloody murder if I was 30 minutes late in taking my pain medication. I needed help.
So we hired help. The conditions were that she would show up at 9am, leave by 6 pm and would only attend to baby duty [feeding, bathing, playing etc]. She works 6 days a week, with a half day of work on Saturdays and no work on Sundays. Sometimes she escorts me when I need to run errands [we’ve been to Nakawa market a few times- the baby got me some discounts] but most of the time, I prefer to leave her [and the baby] in the peace and quiet of home. She is paid at the end of every month [and I also cover her transport if I cannot pick or drop her off].
I have heard the nightmarish stories of maids who mistreat children, steal items and generally cause unrest in the home. I have also seen and heard of how people mistreat their help – giving them no breaks, no pay, being abusive and demanding 24/7 availability. I worked a 24/7 job and I appreciate that to forcefully devote one’s life to someone else’s dream can be depressing. I understand why they get frustrated. I could not do that to another soul.
I have heard the nightmarish stories of maids who mistreat children, steal items and generally cause unrest in the home. I have also seen and heard of how people mistreat their help – giving them no breaks, no pay, being abusive and demanding 24/7 availability. I worked a 24/7 job and I appreciate that to forcefully devote one’s life to someone else’s dream can be depressing. I understand why they get frustrated. I could not do that to another soul.
In return, she is devoted to the little one. She actually misses him on her days off and looks forward to coming back to work on Monday morning. The little one adores her because she is infinitely patient with him. She actually gives me advice on what food to buy and insists that disposable diapers are the devil. She was the happiest person when we switched to cloth diapers – even though it means it increases her washing load.
I was told that I have it good because I make my own schedule and can control how I use my time. But do I really? I have to get up early and return late – working for 12 hours on most days including Sunday. And then there are the clients who want they want now. Don’t I still have to get home at the end of the day and worry about cleaning the house or prepping dinner? Can I just throw into this bucket of wisdom the fact that I cannot, could not do any of this without the husband? How do you handle, you who has a husband who shows up at home and demands for a hot bath and hot meal; even though you both just returned from a 10-hour work day?
I'm glad that you are back at it!
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