I am teaching my boys to become men of integrity

One would be forgiven for thinking that because HIV is as serious as a heart attack, it is the only message I bombard my children with; dusk to dawn.

The twins are still too young to know HI from V. Joshua is getting to an age where he can handle some HIV lessons, if only he took his eyes off his computer games long enough. Israel’s the one who gets me my antiretroviral drugs. When it’s time to teach him about HIV, I can  use that as the jumping off point. 

For now, though, I must teach my children some moral lessons. Strike the hammer while the iron is still hot. The job of turning these boys into men starts with this mama’s moral lessons.

Do unto others …

Sure, HIV is on the “syllabus” that I have designed for my children. But there are other lessons I want to teach my children. For starters, and this is key to me because I’ve been there, I want to teach them to always treat people with dignity. Hey, I know this moral lesson is tied to my HIV story, but it is also tied to an unspoken human need: self-esteem. All human beings desire to be treated decently, whether they’re doing time or doing CSR. If we would all live by the adage, “Do unto others what you’d like to be done unto you,” then ills like stigma and discrimination would not be in our vocabulary. When they are old enough, I will tell these small boys what I went through, and I will command them to never mistreatment anyone. 

Your roots keep you grounded

I want to teach my children never to forget or turn their backs on their roots. This is a toughie; what with changing times and geographical addresses. I want to educate my boys about Kikuyu culture and traditions, although I’m yet to get the formulae on how to go about it.

I was brought up in a village, in the middle of nowhere. In the village, we had many unwritten rules, mostly for kids. If you failed to toe the line, you paid dearly. There are many stereotypes about Kikuyus. But that’s the way it is. Every tribe has its cross.

When I teach my boys about their roots, I will tell them not to be dejected by what some might say about Kikuyus.  

Take care of people God has placed in your life

Back in the day, we were expected to babysit our siblings. If, for instance, your mother went to collect firewood, there were songs that would ostensibly tell her to hurry home to rescue the baby. This baby, a younger sibling, had been strapped on your back or hips for ages and had refused to sleep or stop crying.

The elder kids were to eat githeri, while the baby had all the good food. Most times, the baby’s bawling was because one ate the baby’s food immediately the mother walked through the gate.

The solution? Singing a song that had been passed on for generations. It was believed that it encouraged the mother to hurry back home to, not only breastfeed the bawling baby, but also untie the baby from one’s back. The baby was tied using a cloth called ngoi, which only the mother could untie.

Of course, I won’t tie my kids to each other using ngoi. Nowadays, kids saunter with self-entitlement written all over their sagging pants. I want to teach my boys to take care of one another, and other people God has put in their lives, without looking at what they will get out of it. 

Love one another 

Sometime back, I shared with you how I sensed, (You know how mothers sense things) that my twin sons, Gabriel and Baraka, seem to be stigmatising their elder brother, Issa, because of his condition, Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD. Perhaps it is just me being a sensitive mama, but I’m not going to excuse insensitivity. Not under my watch.  

No offence meant, but I know from experience that siblings can stigmatise one another. Mostly, this is done out of ignorance. Sometimes it is cold and calculated, and whether it is the former or latter, it can cause irreparable damages.

The twins are still too young. But as soon as they can comprehend, I will begin the job of educating them about loving all their siblings unconditionally.