MWALIMU ANDREW: Fiolina’s drama filled pregnancy

I look forward to a quiet last trimester as we wait for the baby. ILLUSTRATION| JOHN NYAGAH

What you need to know:

  • “Sijui mbona watu huogopa,” she would tell Fiolina when she started getting tired and lazy to lift things, go to work.
  • I did not tell you about Fiolina’s other behaviours. In the initial days, she really hated me, and developed a liking for one of her colleagues at the office, whose name I will not mention for the sake of peace in this electioneering period.
  • “Baba watoto hakuna shida na bibi yako,” she said. “Mtoto bado ako mbali sana.” Fiolina told them that she had felt some wetness and knew that that her waters had broken.

When we first received news that Fiolina, was expectant, we were all very happy, and looked forward to the arrival of the bundle of joy – as the Women Guild in the staffroom called it.

“Pregnancy is very easy and you should not be worried at all,” my sister Caro assured Fiolina. Caro is a veteran in this field, she has five children at only 22 years. Her first born came when she was in Class Six and that marked the end of her schooling! Caro has always had easy pregnancies, never visiting clinics, and in three cases delivering while she was in the middle of work – and continued with life the next day.

“Sijui mbona watu huogopa,” she would tell Fiolina when she started getting tired and lazy to lift things, go to work

It was a totally different case for Mrs Atika. While Caro carried her pregnancies with ease, for Mrs Atika, it was sickness throughout, and she would visit the clinic all through.

After delivery, Mrs Atika stayed in hospital for about a week, and back home, she stayed in bed for another two weeks. Caro was busy fetching water a day after delivering her last born son Donald Trump Chiloba, who arrived earlier this year. She however refers to him as acting last born. “God instructed us to go fill the world,” she jokes about it.

I had hoped that Fiolina’s pregnancy would be like Caro’s. Secretly, Caro had told me to be tough on Fiolina. “Please expect her to pretend to be very weak and sickly. Be firm,” she advised me one day. “I have six children now and I suspect I am already pregnant with the seventh but I can tell you it is not as difficult as other women try to make it.”

"So how do I know if she is seriously feeling bad?” I asked her.

“Use your wisdom,” she said. “Don’t rush her to hospital every time. And let her walk and work, she needs to exercise.”

I used to visit Fiolina every week in the initial days, but with the advice from Caro, I reduced this to every fortnight. While she tried to be strong, and carry on her activities as normal, Fiolina got weaker with time.

You will remember the challenges we had earlier. She developed a strange appetite for rare foods, and as much as I tried to get them, Caro discouraged me telling me that Fiolina should get used to normal foods. “I know you have a salary brother but you people don’t earn a lot of money” she said.

“You will grow poor buying her mushrooms.”

I did not tell you about Fiolina’s other behaviours. In the initial days, she really hated me, and developed a liking for one of her colleagues at the office, whose name I will not mention for the sake of peace in this electioneering period. She also developed a dislike for teaching English language, her favourite subject; and fell in love with teaching Mathematics, and as such they had to change her classes.

“This child I am carrying will be a great mathematicians,” she told me. “The baby has made me understand math so well and pushed me to teach it always.” So good was she in maths that they even assigned her the candidates, who really enjoyed her lessons, and apparently recorded great improvements.

Starting late September, Fiolina became very weak and I was being called frequently. I would be with her, and do all the house chores for her.

In many cases, once I arrived, she would say she had felt the baby kick.

“I must be carrying a boy,” she said. “The way he kicked, he will be a great footballer.” She would then ask me to touch her on the tummy to feel the baby.

“Please listen if the baby is breathing well?” she would ask. I would then put my ears on her tummy and I would not be let go until I answered all questions.

“Has he changed position from yesterday? Do you think he is comfortable in that position? Is the breathing the same as the other day? Am I almost ready to give birth?” she would ask such questions in quick succession. In most cases – in fact all – I feigned answers. For I never felt the baby breathe, I couldn’t tell whether the position had changed or whether the baby was comfortable.

Once I had answered the questions, Fiolina, who minutes earlier would have been so weak and sickly, would immediately get well and would ask me to prepare her supper – which she would eat proper!. I would then travel back to Mwisho wa Lami, only to be called back a few days later – being informed that she was in bad shape! I slowly started ignoring her.

So you can imagine how I felt when I was called last Monday. She had texted me earlier in the day but I assumed it was the normal Fiolina complaints, until about 11 am when she sent me an SMS saying “I think the day is today.” This jolted me and I took the next Msamaria Mwema to town.

I then took a boda boda to the house. She could not even walk to open the door and it took lots of intelligence – something God gave in surplus – to open the door from inside, yet I was outside. I found her on the bed.

“Get transport immediately,” she said. “The baby is about to come.”

“Let me call the boda boda before he leaves” I said, dashing out.

“No, get a car,” she yelled at me. “Boda boda cannot help, what if I deliver on the way to hospital?”

I went to the matatu stage and came back with a Probox. I supported Fiolina to walk to the car. The car moved slowly to the hospital.

“Is he almost coming out? Is he breathing well? Can you hear him kick?” she kept asking. I told her we would make it to hospital.

We got to hospital and went to the maternity section, where she was received by two nurses, who did not seem to be in a hurry. They went with her to another room, leaving me alone, worried but happy as I expected to be a new father in a few minutes.

A few minutes later, one of the nurses called me. I walked in and found Fiolina seated with one of the nurses.

“Baba watoto hakuna shida na bibi yako,” she said. “Mtoto bado ako mbali sana.” Fiolina told them that she had felt some wetness and knew that that her waters had broken.

“When you are expectant you have a loose bladder, and that was just it,” said the nurse, who also told me to be tough on Fiolina.

“Why haven’t you bought your wife maternity dresses?” Asked the same nurse. “These tight dresses she is wearing zinafinya mtoto.” I told them I had bought one maternity dress for Fiolina which she rejected saying she wanted to look beautiful with short, tight dresses.

“It was ugly,” she told the nurses who told her all maternity dresses were ugly.

I was instructed to get her several maternity dresses.

“She should also exercise by walking around and general movements,” said the nurse.

“Or else mtapata mtoto maziwa lala.” She asked where our home was and after I described, the nurse ordered that we walk home. And with that we left.

It was a tough walk home but Fiolina made it. Caro lent me two maternity dresses she had used which I gave to Fiolina. I look forward to a quiet last trimester as we wait for baby to come!

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