Mother-child Bond: The Case of an Evicted Mother

The back page of the June 27 and 28 editions of the Daily Observer told the story of an evicted mother who had made for herself and her two-months old baby boy a makeshift home at the corner of Broad and Johnson Streets in downtown Monrovia. The touchiest thing was that that two-months old baby was exposed to the cold of this wet season at such tender age, with his 8-year old brother missing from the family and at the mercy of the elements. 

According to the Observer, Tete Kamara, the mother, defied the raining torrents and scorching sun by spending days and nights on a makeshift bed [made of old rice bags, pieces of carton and clothes] under the roof of a store along the main sidewalk of that densely populated part of downtown Monrovia.

The story said she had been evicted from her Crown Hill residence in Monrovia by her landlord and also abandoned by her husband. In fact, Tete’s older son, Christopher Johnson, went missing one night while they were all fast asleep in that open place.

The publication of that article was received with lots of emotions from the general public, especially the philanthropic community of Liberians, with some pledging financial assistance to the tune of US$1000 and so forth.  But for Tete, although the humanitarian gestures -- especially toward her resettlement -- were highly welcomed, she needed to stay at that identical spot until (just in case) her missing son returned. Signs of desperation [hoping for her son’s return] were expressed all over Tete. In a state of trauma, she had been deeply worried, not knowing the whereabouts of her son.

This development sunk the hearts of all those willing to reach out to this mother. But the good thing is that they could understand that at that very moment, no amount of money, no mansion or expensive food mattered to Tete. The only thing that could wipe away her tears and sorrow was her little boy.

The state Tete found herself in at that very moment was not a unique one. Any mother would have done just the same. This is because we are physically attached to our mothers for nine unbroken months – some even go 13 months. That physical link between the mother and child is only broken with the cutting of the umbilical cord. But guess what? The cutting of the umbilical cord doesn’t completely cut us off from our moms. It rather serves as the beginning of our emotional and psychological attachment to our mothers.

That’s how thick and deep the bond between our mothers and us is. Traditionally, women are encouraged to breastfeed their offspring. The notion is that  breastfeeding a baby further fosters the early post-parturient maternal bond, through touch, response, and mutual gazing. Some even believe strongly that this is the period when a woman gets to realize that she absolutely loves someone.

Just take a second to imagine how your life would be without a mother to cheer your heart; guide your first steps; open your eyes to the wonders of this world and support all of your caprices. Before getting that far, first imagine your development in her womb to the day she bore you. You will come to realize that, for her part, she has never failed in letting you know how important and precious you are to her life.

In closing, the story is told of a little girl who recently graduated from K2 in lower Bong County. (The Daily Observer’s Yarkpai Keller brought this in.) At the end of the ceremony, as all the parents there had begun to shower praises and felicitations and love upon their children, the little girl burst into tears because, just days earlier, her mother had passed. At that tender age, she knew she was missing something and, in that very moment, it finally dawned on her.