By Shem Onderi
Arrive, baby, in your mother’s womb, that she may be respected,
and your father valued among his peers. Your grandmother awaits your arrival,
eager to welcome you to the world.
Grow, baby, and take shape, that your mother may visit the prenatal clinic, just like the others,
and prepare for your birth. The village is ready to celebrate your coming,
with gifts and festivities. That toy car on the shelf awaits your tiny hands.
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Years have passed since your mother joined your father, with the hope of starting a family.
But still, there are no baby clothes on the line, no baby dishes in the cupboard.
The neighbors whisper, and the local church prays loudly for your arrival.
The choir members compose songs, impatient for your birth.
The local pastor intercedes on your behalf, and the herbalist offers remedies,
while your parents’ peers struggle with the challenges of parenthood.
Some face sleepless nights, while others boast of their children’s resemblance to their ancestors.
Be born, baby, that your mother may liken you to her late aunt, and find joy in your presence.
We will wait, no matter the length of time, until you arrive in your mother’s arms.
The nearby school teacher awaits you, with an engaging curriculum,
and your parents will be your primary teachers, guiding you through your early years.
Your mother will read to you, and help with your homework.
The local tailor has the latest fabric, waiting for your measurements,
to create clothes that will make you look smart and proud.
You will grow up to be a great leader, a dedicated nurse, a news reader,
or an engineer who will pave the road to your parents’ home.
But for now, come into being, baby, and bring joy to those who await you.
