The User Manual Never Came: My Not-So-Defined Journey into Motherhood

So here’s the thing,if someone handed out a starter pack for motherhood, mine definitely got lost in transit. Probably labeled “return to sender”or stuck in customs with my dreams and sanity.

This is my journey. Not just into motherhood, but into 'parenthood', 'adulting', and, ultimately, into becoming a completely new version of me. A reboot, if you will,except with way more crying ,mostly mine,and zero warranty.

But let me ask: Where does motherhood even begin? Is it the moment you see two lines on a test? When you start hiding cravings for boiled eggs and mangoes at 2 a.m.? Or is it when someone calls you “Mama” and you're not sure whether to feel proud, scared, or just hungry again?

In most African families, this isn’t something we talk about. No TED Talks over dinner, no pamphlets titled “So You’re Thinking of Becoming a Mum.”Nope. Yet these same families have unspoken standards on how motherhood should be lived. It's like trying to run a quality check on software that was never scoped in the first place.

Imagine this "a definition of Done... with no definition of ready". Welcome to parenting, African edition.

2021, Ah yes, "2021", the year everything started aligning,or so I thought. Let’s rewind a little.

You see those 'big 3-0' societal whispers go,right? By thirty, you're expected to have it all wrapped up:a husband,at least one child,a thriving career,a car,a master’s degree (because knowledge is power and sometimes, pressure).

I wasn’t doing too badly, if I do say so myself. I ticked quite a few boxes. I was officially a Subaru girlie,gliding through Nairobi's streets with my windows down and confidence up like a pro. My thesis proposal had just been accepted at the University of Nairobi,high five to intellectual crowns everywhere, and I had just transitioned into my first real step on the corporate staircase. Not just entering the building... I was finally on the stairs!

But then, there was this gaping checkbox still empty: "The husband.”
Because, according to the formula, "kids should follow a husband". Spoiler alert: life doesn’t read formulas.

Let’s be honest,no one teaches you how to find a husband. It's not in the curriculum. We just grow up watching women get found, as though there’s some mystical husband-finding radar that activates after your 29th birthday.

So, where are these husbands sold? Do they come in limited editions? Do I download an app or send an email? 'Subject: Urgently Needed - Lifetime Companion.'

Well, I had the love of my life, loving and living miles away.

I had known him for years,someone who had walked with me through the chaotic maze of life. We survived heartbreaks, career transitions, and even binge-watched movies together during COVID lockdowns. He was in Europe. I was in Kenya. But thanks to technology, it felt like we were neighbors... with better Wi-Fi than most married couples.

We talked. We planned. We agreed: once he flew back to Kenya, we’d take the next step.First stop? The introduction. Because in our culture, that’s where you 'introduce' not just him to the family, but yourself to the impending whirlwind of opinions.

Every family has that "one" auntie. You know her. She's got insider intel on everyone’s business, and somehow always knows who’s getting married next. She’s open, outspoken, and weirdly invested in your ovaries.One day over chai and unprovoked small talk, I casually lobbed my teaser:

“He’s flying in this April... His visa’s ending. Finally. Painful for him, but a small miracle for me.” “From which tribe is he again?”.
Before I could answer, she hit me with the real question:“I hope he’s from the GEMA community.”Ah yes,because tribe absolutely ranks higher than love,compatibility, and shared dreams.

Me: Defense mode activated instantly. “We’ve known each other since my first year in campus. He’s not new. We’re in the same field. I’ve seen him grow, professionally and emotionally.”

What I didn’t say: Also, he knows how to fix my Wi-Fi remotely, and that’s a rare skill in today’s men.

And just like that, the wheels were in motion. An unscripted adventure, a plan formed in Google chats and time zones, now turning into reality. But motherhood? That part was still blurry. I knew it was coming, but I had no idea how much it would change me.

But as life would have it, April came and went, and the much-anticipated “Jet-In Day”... well, it shifted. You know how life is  never quite downloading as per the original blueprint.Still, our story didn’t hit pause. We kept talking, catching up across time zones, laughing about the madness of life, and sharing everything from memes to milestones.

Motherhood isn't just about becoming a mom. It’s about losing, finding, and redefining yourself all at once. It’s about sleepless nights, messy buns, unanswered texts, and overflowing laundry baskets that judge you silently. It’s also about joy, magic, and those weird little moments where a tiny human wraps their arms around you and you think, so this is what all the noise was about.

And to think... it all started with a Subaru, a thesis, a virtual love story, and one suspicious auntie.

Stay tuned. Because the real story was just beginning.
And trust me,it came with plot twists, diapers, and love like I’d never known before.