Mother of Matéri

Knowing my Mama now it is no wonder I have been taken in as a family member. She rejects nearly no one. My Mama is a short lady, she is shorter than me. She is strong and thin mostly, except for a little round belly that she admires proudly when she is finished eating. She jokes about making me fat before I go back to the States—it is good to be fat here and considered attractive.

Around the house she has two panyas wrapped around her, and normally wears a western style shirt—shirts that you can by at the mall for going clubbing when you are a teenager. Around her head in the day she wraps a cloth, at night she leaves her head bare, which shows her short hair and makes her look older.

I am not sure how old she really is, she jokes that she is old. I asked my sister once, she said she thought maybe 51. Age is irrelevant here. Her skin is dark, and she has a unique nose that her daughter, Petra shares. It is not a typical African nose, and it comes to a point. Petra acknowledged this, saying it was a “white” person like nose. My Mama has a great big smile, and large white teeth. In the mornings she chews on a stick—the Benin toothbrush—to keep them clean, spitting out bits of wood onto the ground, watching and making sure the children are sweeping and doing their morning choirs in a timely fashion.

Petra is her only actual blood child. There is no mistaking the two are related. Then there is Huegette, a niece—her parents live in Natitingou. Huegette is a tall solid teenage girl. She has a gentle voice, but a strong presence. She works hard, studies a lot, and almost never gives my Mama any problems. Then there is Maiveux, who is my Mama’s grand daughter. She is Sophie’s child. I did not know this for nearly a month. My Mama pays for her to go to private school. It is about 30,000 CFA, which is a lot of Benin. Then there is Presca, who we as of late refer to as a crazy person—she exhibits the hoppng behavior of the aforementioned crazy man. Presca has no family relation, but my Mama feeds and clothes her, and gives her a place to stay.

Then there is me. She calls me and Petra her benjamins, which is the French word for youngest. She knows I am the youngest in my family back home. At the same time I often jokingly called Papa Jamie. Last week, there was a meeting for the parents of students at the private school. I went along as one of Mieuveux’s parents. Mieuviex no runs her homework and studies by both me and Mama. I am not sure when, but I assume recently, like in the last few years, my Mama’s husband passed away. Yesterday I ate my lunch quickly and was given more. My mama explained I should say when I want more food, there is no man here after all, just her and I.

During the course of a week people come in and out of the concession. Last week a lady came in with a baby. The lady was to old to be the baby’s mother, apparently the mother had passed away. The lady did not know how to feed the baby. She gave the baby her breast to feed from, but at age 60 or so, my guess is that did not yield much success. My Mama had one of the girls go get some unsweetened condensed milk, and another boil water. She mixed together some milk, and fed the baby. She explained carefully how she made the concoction and the lady went on her way. Yesterday she went to a nearby village and got a free huge can of powdered milk for babies, which she gave the lady.

On Thursdays the two of us set out into the market. There is an elderly woman, who lives behind the Catholic Church, she had twelve kids, and now uses canes to help her walk—she is over 80 I am sure. I always saluer the woman, and my Mama always quickly gives her 50CFA.

A vendor came by to sell some jewelry. I bought a necklace and earrings. My mama saw a pair she liked, but didn’t by it. She didn’t have the money she said. Yesterday she bought a primary school student all her supplies for school.

Petra told Mama that one of her friends father’s children was sick. Malaria. We left a little after 8 p.m. to go saluer them and see if they were doing better. On arrival my Mama asked if they had a mosquito net. They did not have one big enough for their mattress. After departing the house, my Mama went to the pharmacy and asked about a double size net. They said there wasn’t any, she insisted they look. Five minutes later they found one. They gave it to her, and she had one of the students take it back to the family.

The past few nights the two of us have set off the maternity ward, where my Mama baths some of the babies, and get on the new mothers when they aren’t breastfeeding properly.

Sometimes my Mama takes out old pictures of past volunteers. She is so proud of their work, but I can’t help but want a picture with her, because I am so proud to know her, the mother of Matéri.