My name is tshepo Jamillah Moyo, I am the first born of Allah Tshetsanyana Moyo’s two daughters. The first woman to grace my list of women who inspire me might go on to shock those who know me. The first woman on my list of powerful, strong women who play a constant role in creating me, only one third of the women they are can naturally only be my mother. Yes, I am talking sat in her belly 9months dictating what she can and cannot eat, then spent every waking moment either
a) in my father’s arms
b) crying to be in my father’s arms
c) Telling her about something me and my father did.
d) Bullying her while hanging out with my dad. (i am a real daddy’s girl)
So you could say we don’t have a girly mother daughter AWESOME relationship. In fact I can see her face while reading. (Just in case I do send the link to this). My mother isn’t the first person I think of when I am in pain. My mother is not the person I call when I want to go home from school. She is not the one I crack jokes with or the one that has the best music collection, or movie collection. MY MOTHER IS NOT A “COOL”MOM. My mom is the BEST mom. She is a hardworking, passionate, ambitious woman. And sure once upon a time I felt that I was second rate to her work. That if she hadn’t been working all the time that our relationship would be completely different. Anyway I am going totally of track.... this is not about our relationship but rather her achievements.
I didn’t really want to interview my mom. She doesn’t deal well with “subtle” questions and is often on to me before I can even begin to phantom a lie. This article is some what a surprise for both me and her. Therefore I apologise for the lack of anything but emotional reason to her being number 1.
My mother is a feminist. I am talking will beat a man down, step over his neck; whip him with a sham bock before she is belittle by him feminist. She is involved with a number of organisations that take care of women in horrible situations. Her current occupation is somewhat a cross between lecturing men on HIV/AIDS & violence against women, to teaching these men how to respect a woman. Naturally as her daughter I am taught the same. (Except the sex talks, we’d both rather skip those). My earliest memory of preparing for preschool is my mother teaching me how to punch in the face. She always said to throw so hard, that I drew blood. I am not a violent person. I have never had to use that advice.
Perhaps my father played a role in her next strategy. She told me I could do anything a man can. Somehow I have always believed her. I can identify 95% of the tools in my dad’s tool box. I am a great fisher, an average shooter, I ride a Yamaha 450cc Benchy, I am a bush tracker, and I can skin an animal by myself. I have a little trouble tying knots, but on camping trips I don’t sit around the fire cooking with the women. I can even pitch my own tent. Unlike most women, my mother didn’t yell when my dad turned me into his son. She didn’t try to dress me in pink, frills, and heels. She let me pick my way. I am not saying my mother made a man out of me. All she did was make me realise that despite what people say being a woman should never stop me from doing the things I want to do.
Yet, my mother is a married woman. She has been for the past 17years. Unlike most feminist my mother never forgot to teach me the root of tradition. Her relationship with my father is beautiful, although I often refer to it as GAY. They have this circle of respect for each other, which stems from my mother’s ability to realise her role, a wife. My father is the head of the family. There is no doubt about it. Yet my mother seems unshaken by it. From their relationship, I have learnt interdependency. I have seen my mother become what a woman should be. A simple rule, although I can do it myself there is nothing wrong with him doing it for me. Once in a while it feels nice to be reminded that I am not a man. So on this note i suggest a toast to Alla Moyo, the first step in the creation of 1third of a woman!!!
