As Inuayen pondered what to pack for her three-month overseas trip targeted at post-natal care for her second daughter Nse, and her newborn son, she found her thoughts drifting away. It was not a new role for Inuayen, but the circumstances were vastly different. Two years ago, while she was still in active employment, her first daughter Offiong had been put to bed. Offiong lived a mere 30-minute drive away and she had easily played the motherly role of “omugwo” without moving away from home. With an official driver and a housekeeper at her beck and call, it had been easy to navigate both homes while ensuring that her husband Etete, was covered.

However, with Nse having recently relocated abroad, it would prove a different ball game. Her concerns gravitated around navigating the unfamiliar terrain, especially without a driver and housekeeper. Thankfully, she was now retired and could afford the time, but she never traveled outside the country except in the company of Etete. They were inseparable. How would he cope with her absence for that length of time? This bothered her even though he had given his consent to her travel (albeit reluctantly). She wished she could have ceded this responsibility to Nse’s mother-in-law,  but alas, she had transitioned six months earlier.

Her thoughts shifted to one of her church friends, Iya Sewa, who had supposedly gone to help her daughter in Spain nine months ago when she put to bed. When she last chatted with members of their church society, Iya Sewa confided in them that she would stay for as long as the daughter and her husband would accommodate her. She was experiencing challenges in her marriage and saw the “omugwo” as a welcome excuse to be away from her home. Amidst pleas for her return, she responded, “Now Papa Sewa will appreciate what I do for him. He takes me so much for granted and constantly stresses me. I need the escape.” It had been a tug of war to obtain Papa Sewa’s consent which had only been possible through coercion from his siblings and extended members of his family. Iya Sewa had disclosed to close friends that she had prayed and thanked God, constantly looking over her shoulders until she was airborne en route to Spain. She could not believe that God had provided that route of escape from her misery at home.

Inuayen roused herself from her reverie to the present and sighed…”Different strokes for different folks I guess. After all, my sister, Koko is routing on having her husband tag along for the duration of her three-month stay with her daughter.” This is because her husband – Dipo had taken care of their two children as babies. He was experienced at bathing, feeding, and changing the babies’ diapers and could easily put them to sleep. If the care needed to be complete, they would share the responsibilities with her doing the household chores and caring for the mother while Dipo, would care for the baby. That would also take care of the loneliness they would both experience if they were away from each other for that length of time.

Postnatal care of mother and child by either the mother or mother-in-law of the new mother is a traditional African concept and usually lasts a minimum of three months during which time, the new mother is gradually transitioned into caring for the baby while allowed to regain her strength. The term “omugwo” though the igbo word describing the concept, has become widely used generically, across various other groups in Nigeria. However, with the increasing number of migrants, it is becoming increasingly challenging for both the new mother and the parents to effectively execute this post natal role. There is no one fit solution and mothers expected to play the “omugwo” role must apply wisdom and understanding depending on their unique circumstance.

To all the grandmoms and potential grandmoms out there, Havilah says…have a fulfilling “omugwo.”

Love

Havilah