23 Eylül 2012 Pazar

The Forgotten, by Pamela B.






Pamela BoulwareHealth 3 - Kayonza District, Eastern Province



Motherhood and prostitution have a lot more incommon than one might assume. Both are largely thankless professions into whichmany women unwittingly fall and out of which they rarely, if ever, are able toextricate themselves. Doomed to a life of service to others, most of whom havelittle if any understanding of the depth of commitment involved in suchservice, women in these professions are never properly appreciated or decentlycompensated, and are doomed to be tossed aside like so much refuse once their perceivedusefulness has expired.-The Utter Follyof a Life of Service: Women and the Trap of Selflessness

            Thequote above states the obvious; women are not appreciated for the servicesrendered in motherhood and prostitution. While it is true, women carry the burdenof child birth which in many cases women die. This fact has led me to writethis entry. On July 10, 2012, I was told that the wife of a teacher at myschool died giving birth to their first child, which survived. We have a tendencyto associate parenting with solely women. Therefore, there is little or no acknowledgementto the men. However, what happens when, like in this case, women die givingbirth. In this entry, I want to take time to acknowledge the role men play inparenthood.             SinceI have begun my service here in Rwanda, I have befriended three families thathave been struck with tragedy and the husband has been left to handle thestresses of raising a family alone. In a society that places a big emphasis onwomen as the structural support in the home, on a 1-hour dusty walk, I wasgiven the privilege to have a quick unplanned chat with a father of one of thefamilies about how his role has changed since the death of his “best friend.” Sincefinding out about the loss of his wife I tried to keep conversations light andtalk about happy things sometimes not talk at all and just walk in comfortablesilence. One day while walking to work, I seen a little baby running after hermother which was going to fetch water. The mother told the child to return home,to where I see, what is believed to be the grandmother with three other smallchildren. I look to my friend while shaking my head and asked, “Ri abagaboaho?” Where are the men?             Hewas silent for so long I thought he had not heard my question but before Icould ask again he said “tumeze hano,” we are here. We continued walking insilence, then he states that in Rwanda, particularly in Mwili, an area inKayonza. There is a problem with jobs. Many men work near the National Park,which is far. In the village, women may stay at home and men go to work but ifone has no wife to stay home with the kids he has to find more work to havemore money to pay someone to help take care of the kids. He mentions that here,culture gives the man many family responsibilities that the foreigner will notsee or understand because they are not Rwandandese.
            As I thought about his last comment I came to understand his meaning, in that living here as an American, people have many ideas about the American people in which they recieve from television, books, radios and word of mouth.  I believe at times it is so easy to hold on to the negative parts of society because its easier to understand while the actuality is rather multifaceted. In a rather complex society, to an outsider such as myself, I have a new found respect for the men in these families.   
Only a dad with a tired face,Coming home from the daily race,Bringing little of gold or fame,To show how well he has played the game,But glad in his heart that his own rejoiceTo see him come and to hear his voice.

Only a dad with a brood of four,One of ten million men or more.Plodding along in the daily strife,Bearing the whips and the scorns of life,With never a whimper of pain or hate,For the sake of those who at home await.

Only a dad, neither rich nor proud,Merely one of the surging crowdToiling, striving from day to day,Facing whatever may come his way,Silent, whenever the harsh condemn,And bearing it all for the love of them.

Only a dad but he gives his allTo smooth the way for his children small,Doing, with courage stern and grim,The deeds that his father did for him.This is the line that for him I pen:Only a dad, but the best of men.
Anonymous

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