Mothering A David

At birth I was named Prim Kesande. The adjective Prim means neat and proper, as my mother would later tell me when I became of age. I was born on a Sunday morning, at 11:57am to be precise. My surname was derived from the day of the week on which I was born. Mother also told me that if I had been born a boy, she would have called me Sabiti or Sunday, the masculine version of Kesande. Her choice of my christian name would have been Stanley or Hannington. She said those names sounded ‘neat and proper.’ 

Many people ask, what’s in a name? I will say, for me, the name is everything. One’s name is the first identifier, the rest, like character, gender, color are the specifics of whose name is in question. Names like David, Brian, Daniel were some of the names I loved while growing up. For David and Daniel, it was because of the outstanding Biblical characters they presented. Brian simply sounds cool. Beyond that, I was later in life to meet an angel in human form called Brian Williams, whose family influenced my life in tremendous ways. 

Fast forward, I started the journey of motherhood in 2012. I did not have major challenges in naming the children we have been blessed with. I know different cultures and families have differing traditions regarding naming of children. As a family, we agreed that the father and mother of the child are the key stakeholders in this important tradition. We name our children! The mother actually has sole rights of choosing the surname, since the family name is a given. On August 14, 2013, we were blessed with a baby boy, we had long planned that if we ever got more than one son, the second one would be David Ahumuza, plus the head of the clan’s name that remains a constant for all children. David was named after the biblical David, the man after God’s own heart. The Bakiga say a name is a person, literally put. David is David! 

As a mother, I have intimate heart to heart conversations with my children. Sometimes one on one, other times as a threesome. I missed this while growing up, I wouldn’t trade such an experience for anything for my children. Many a time, African children were denied the right to be children while growing up. I remember countless instances where I ran to my mother with a burning question and the eye gesture she gave me answered all the other unasked questions. I have thus been intentional in nurturing healthy boundaries for me and the children. I am a firm believer in the adage that familiarity breeds contempt, so I and my clan continue to grow in the space of respect for each other’s position in the family structure. So far, this arrangement is serving us well. I know teenage years come with their own set of rules of engagement, but I choose to focus on the now. I am deeply convinced that the summation of my parenting choices for today will pay off tomorrow, God willing.

 ‘At what age did you get married to daddy?’ David asked me sometime last year, one lazy afternoon of the unending lockdown series. 

 ‘I met him at 25, we got married at 26!’ I answered as my face lit up. 

‘Twenty what?’ he exclaimed! 

‘I wouldn’t wait to get married at such a late age.’ he continued. 

I have had various discussions with my children on different life matters – money, marriage, career etc. I was neither surprised by David’s question or response. Many times, my children have had differing opinions regarding my choices especially when I was their age. They for example cannot comprehend how my mother, their grandmother, could not do everything in her means to buy for her daughter a television set to be able to watch cartoons as she grew up. In moments like that, I remind them that if wishes were horses, beggars would be allover the streets riding. It’s just a matter of time, soon they will fully comprehend why life happens the way it does. 

So, David told me of how he will marry his kindergarten crush Kay when they both turn 18. I reminded him that at 18, he will have just completed high school yet marriage calls for more than just having who to marry. By the end of our conversation, we had agreed that the earliest he can take someone’s daughter for a wife is probably 23. By then he should be done with college or hustling somewhere! 

‘I will marry at 23. Deal?’ he intently looked at me. 

‘Deal.’ I responded with an equally straight gaze. 

I did not have to worry about how the deal details finally unfold, after all, I am not the one he will be marrying! Even then, we still have some years to see him turn 23. 

Mothering a David, just like the bold shepherd boy continues to be quite a journey. Little is mentioned about the biblical David’s mother, apart from constant reference to his father, Jesse. 

David, my beloved son, as you turn eight, please know that you are loved, but above all, that you are a David.

                                                        ©Prim K. Tumuramye

Prim is a Christian, wife, mother and Communications Specialist at Compassion International. She is passionate about reading, writing, youth mentorship and intentional parenting.