Last Friday Egypt celebrated Mother’s day. Watani marks the occasion by reporting on the story of one very special mother.
The picture shows Isis, the most celebrated Egyptian mother, suckling Horus.
When my phone rang, an old gentle voice tickled my ear, a sound I instantly recognised as that of a close friend with whom I had parted years ago. Divergent roads in life and busy schedules kept us apart for so long, yet hearing her voice now felt as though it was only yesterday that we had last been together. She told me she was now married and had two children, the elder in the first primary year in school and the younger in nursery. She was conducting post graduate studies while working as an English teacher in a school near her home.
As we talked on, I began to recall our memories at school, because Fatma was not just a friend but was one of my best. I knew her as a shy schoolmate whose voice could be barely heard, which made many teachers misjudge her as an idle creature. Nobody could have imagined the dynamic, successful young woman she was today.
Fatma met her husband at university. He was two years her senior. They got engaged directly after she finished college and began their quest to establish a new home. Fatma strove to learn everything about cooking and housekeeping since she planned to depend on no-one but herself. Her parents were on hand, however, to offer encouragement and support, always insisting that success was the fruit of overcoming difficulties and hard times.
The babies arrived one after the other. It was then that Fatma began to feel she needed guidance as a young mother for, I must explain, both Fatma and her husband are blind. The babies, however, were both born with normal eyesight, which doubled the challenge. Fatma’s mother and her mother in law offered invaluable help.
“But the most important part, Fatma says, was to help my children with reading, writing, and school work. My younger sister frequently came to my assistance, and I let her read to me the children’s books while I typed them in Braille to follow up with the children later.”
“Are you a good cook?” I asked. “Sure,” she cheerfully said, “I love cooking and try to cook healthy meals for my household. I listen carefully to be able to tell the level of boiling or frying. While stirring the ingredients I can get a feel whether they have cooked well or if the food is still uncooked.”
“And how do you manage to protect the children from all the household hazards?” I wondered out loud. Fatma said it was easier than most people imagined. “The main thing,” she explained, “is to keep everything in order. I try not to leave anything lying in the wrong place or on the floor so the children would not pick up anything and put it in their mouths. Love is our secret code; my husband is a caring, hands-on father, and we taught the children to hand us anything they may accidentally find. We always talk to them and try to explain the hazards of such things as fire, electric plugs or trash bins.”
I would have loved to have a family picture for Watani but the father, ever protective of his children, gently refused saying it might jeopardise their privacy.
“Learning, perseverance, patience, and practice make perfect,” Fatma says. She certainly summed it all up.