I have a little life growing inside me, and it amazes me each time she kicks that I am so blessed as to have been chosen as the channel through which this feisty little girl will be brought to this world.
Despite the hallowed pregnancy glow having eluded me (I waited and waited, but my face broke out and broke out), a weight gain announcing itself loudly on my face, stomach, hips and thighs, headaches and backaches, I am savouring each moment of my pregnancy.
A recent visit to the market to get my little girl clothes to start her off made me reflect on the kind of society I would be raising my child in.
The kind of society which starts off at stuff Girls cannot wear and ends at You can be yourself but not too much of yourself.
The market woman meant well when she asked:
A Boy or girl?
To which I excitedly replied;
A Girl, thinking they were just trying to make conversation while in actual sense the baby’s sex automatically disqualified me from the blue and brown category of clothes.
After checking out some drab pink baBy-wear, I asked her for some blue and green outfits, which she hesitantly offered, perhaps thinking that I was planning to raise my girl as a boy?
My child, I offered, will not be raised on pink clothes but on clothes that fit.
She pursed her lips for a few minutes, as if she had never considered that below, then she said:
Unasema ukweli-bora tu mtoto amefunikwa (What you are saying is true, as long as the child is covered.)
It got me thinking as well of the a Girl can’t do mentality that has held me back (and thousands of others, I am sure) from doing things that I would otherwise have gone boldly forth and done. That is why I reject the pink frilly dress for my daughter.
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