Online Reporter
Fadzayi Maposah-Correspondent
If smartness and order were a person, it would be my mother. She is very smart, and when she goes to the bathroom, she takes her time.
Even when we were small, once she went to the bathroom, we knew that we had a lot of time for mischief! She would be in the bathroom for a long time, washing, scrubbing and making sure that she was clean.
Even her relatives and neighbours know that Mai Fadzi takes her time when it comes to bathing. If someone calls and you answer her phone and say that she is taking a bath, those who know her well will not call again soon or they will simply wait for her to return the call.
I have always known Mai Fadzi as someone who really scrubs when it comes to bathing. She does not pass through the bathroom on her way to another place. She can stay in the bathroom and make use of the time.
After her bath, she will decide what to wear. If its not up to her standard, maybe not properly ironed or a button is missing, she may request assistance but back in her hey days, she would simply start ironing or sewing. My mother has been a house manager all her life.
Before she got married, she helped my grandmother Va MaSibanda to manage the household as her older sister had married.
Being on a farm with many relatives, it expanded the scope of responsibilities that she carried even in youth. While she was supposed to play the sisterly role mainly, she had to be a “mother” to others since they were way younger than her or the mothers sought support in the young woman who was there.
The tasks she did automatically elevated her to “mother” duties. Even now in her old age, the relatives that she mothered, look up to her as a mother and accord her the necessary respect.
When she married, she got the chance to put all her skills, wishes and aspirations to work as she managed our home and family. Occasionally she would get help, but it was never full time, people who assisted her would come and go as and when the duties dictated.
By and large, she ran the household alone and as one who lived in the home that Mai Fadzi managed, I can certify it was well done. The standards, though not written down, were known because she led by example.
While we did not live in luxury, I can honestly say that our home was always clean, orderly and very organised. While we would misplace items occasionally, in many instances, everything was where it was supposed to be. Meals were planned for and everyone ate at the same time unless they were away.
Meal times were an opportunity for the family to be together and bond. Chores were age appropriate. Everyone did something, unless they were sick! Even if one said that they were sick, it was my mother who made sure that one was unwell! She could even say that the headache was a result of being glued to the television for too long (mind you I grew up at a time when TV viewing was from about 4pm to about 10 pm). She had her ways of ensuring that the headache would go away.
Mai Fadzi could tell you to go outside to get some fresh air. She would follow you to let you know that while getting some fresh air, could you water her flowers. While you looked at her surprised, she would add that it was important to go easy on the watering, and not to carry a full bucket from the tap.
With a smile, she would leave you to get some fresh air, water her flowers and get rid of the headache. Talk about combination therapy!
Even now with dementia, my mother still values order. She still loves bathing. She still loves home management. Just after Christmas Day, she travelled with her relatives for a tombstone unveiling in Shurugwi.
She took her time to bath and get ready. I had chosen a nice comfortable dress for the journey. She did not want to wear the pink polka dress, saying that it was too colourful for a sombre ceremony.
My aunt and I had to explain that it was not a funeral and that the dress was just fine for the journey to Shurugwi, the unveiling would be the next day. Then the question, when had Tete Regina died? She said that no one had told her of the death, and now she was being asked to attend the unveiling of the tombstone.
She said that she would have wanted to attend the burial of her aunt who was also her childhood friend. Then the explanations, she had not been attended the funeral, but she had a chance to be at the memorial service.
The answers surprise her and she turns to the dress again, maybe it would be good to wear it with a dark jersey or jacket so that it is not to bright for a sombre occasion. We give her a black jacket and she is content.
When we get to my aunt’s place where the mini bus taking them to Shurugwi will pick them up, she then asks why my other aunt is wearing a bright floral dress for a funeral. Then my two aunts who were not there when she asked that question start explaining all over again.
When I bid her farewell, she then starts asking why Chido and I are not joining them on the trip to Shurugwi since most of her relatives will be there, and it is a good opportunity to meet and interact with them since I last saw most of them a long time ago?
What my experience with dementia has taught me and continues to teach me is patience.
