Dividends of Mommacracy

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Late night selfie

I should have taken a photo of myself in my Khaki and baby carrier to match this post now that I think of it, let me not dwell on the past.

However, confess, some of you people look at corpers carrying babies oddly. You give them second glances, and sometimes run your unsolicited comments of

“Why are you suffering baby under the sun? Dont you have someone to take care of her for you?”

Nobody has asked me that, I haven’t had to carry any of them Omobas’ under the sun. I did take TheBoss once for Cds, but ferried in the Royal automobile and about five imaginary police escorts. I imagine if I had to carry baby for Nysc duties and take the public transport, I would be too angry already to offer any diplomacy tinted explanations.

Today was different, I broke my rules.

I had dressed and driven out of the house when I got wind of the long queue at the local government office.  Without thinking twice I drove back home, convinced my reluctant mother of my intentions and strapped baby into the car seat. 

***
“All these nursing and pregnant mothers sef, na so dem go dey jump queue” said one mumu pesin.

So yes, It was my turn as soon as I arrived. The lovely guys at the front of the queue made quick way

“Oh let her do fast and take her baby home”

Why thank you!

On my way out one babe went

“Oh my goodness, you have finished already, I wish I had a baby too”

I grinned, then giggled.

It is only polite and courteous that you make life easier for nursing mothers whenever you can. I would have loved to keep baby at home and dash to my corpering alone, but we love evidence in this country. I remain a nursing mother with or without my baby, but if I had gone there today without her, O.Y.O would have been my case.

So what would it profit me to rush to a place, follow long queues and be pestered with phone calls to bring my breasts home? When I could go with the temporary owner of the breasts and she ensures we get done really fast at the mere sight of her.

Its 1.00am here.

Baby is widdddde awake. If her pattern for the past three days is anything to go by, I shall sleep at about 3.00am finally.

I pay my dues every minute of my life these days, I haven’t had a straight night sleep in months, Kabiyesi calls these tiny inconveniences bragging rights. He says each time I open my mouth to say

“Ooh he is my son, or she is my daughter”

I should smile that I did earn the reason to say so.

I have decided to see it that way too, each time I carry my baby to try and score some special treatment goals, I do earn the reason to. I pay with my backache, sleepless nights, shit packing, sleepless nights, etc, sleepless nights.

Until the thirty something hours I have to drop this Khaki is over, no vex, once I get wind of any unbearable queues,  I will do the needful.

Goodmorning.
Olori Achalugo

P:S: A few good babes.

Who would have thought? I saw the familiar shapely bum from my last post, leaning curvedly again against the staircase. It happens that Oga B’s(my friend) toastee is not a new corper, and she served in my LG all these while. And guess what? She was pleasantly surprised to see I had a baby and best of all, she humbly helped with running around for my photocopies.

My waiting did pay off in the end.

6 thoughts on “Dividends of Mommacracy

  1. Sis. There are a few times im my life when I desperately want children. In no particular order these are: When I see that all the good parking lots are reserved for expectant mothers. When I’m bored in church and need a valid reason to play. When I want to cut in line. When I want to play dressup with a life doll. #thatsall

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