The pressures of being a man in this present era are innumerable. From trying to eke a living to finding one’s purpose. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to explain the never-dwindling patronage of bars and the involvement in, pretty much any mind-numbing activity amongst men as we try to keep it together. Let me not get ahead of myself though.
My Name is Nicholas Mayanja; an audio producer, musician, script-writer, small scale farmer (Oh I almost forgot, once upon a time accountant) and preacher of the gospel of Jesus Christ. I realize those are many hats to wear but that’s not what we’re here for, is it?
I’m here to share some of my experiences of being raised by a “Sheroe” and how that has shaped my mental well-being.
For some perspective, I’m the fifth of five children born of my mother (RiP) and the only son of my parents. That usually spells, SPOILT BRAT and I must say I was, all through my early childhood. Having grown up around girls I noticed that they are very nurturing from an early age. My sisters loved me to the core and shielded me, sometimes even from my mother’s wrath. My mother loved me to the very end of her life and I reciprocated. However, she was not one to spare the rod when she needed to use it. She was a very tough disciplinarian and could very easily have been mistaken for a school teacher, even though she was a secretary in a bank for 30 years. My father moved to the U.S when I was 3 years of age, to pave the way for the rest of us to leave Uganda, as that was a very tumultuous time in the history of the country. However, as life goes, he was caught up in some “Entanglements” that led to him getting married to an American lady and having my half-sister (who I have only met once). All this came to light when my 3 eldest sisters relocated to the U.S, as had been planned by my parents. The shock and horror left the whole family devastated and led to the un-official separation of my parents but also shattered my dad’s second marriage. This also meant that me and my remaining sister were now staying put in Uganda because mom had lost all interest in traveling. As a 9-year-old boy, in a war-torn country, all I could think about was, “Dad just had to go and do me like that!” And that marked the end of my glory days. I now had to hustle for attention like all my siblings had done before me because at that point, there were just 2 of us left and that sister was a tough act to follow. She was a straight-A student and could sing like an angel (that’s what everybody said but yeah, she really was a good singer). I on the other hand, was not outstanding in anything at that point. Mom had made sure to put us in some of the best schools at that time but my performance was less than average for the most part and my self-esteem was very low. Eventually, the low self-esteem and search for attention got the better of me and I made some really bad choices that led to my expulsion from that Grade A school and ended up in a school that was way lower in standard. That was the first time I ever saw my mom lose it with me, yet how she dealt with it made me gain so much respect for her. Rather than pour her wrath out on me, she called in her elder brother and they had a very serious talk with me, that totally changed the direction of my life. At that age I realized the sacrifices she had been making and the pain she had been going through to take care of me, with very little assistance from anyone. It’s at that point that I determined to do better. Fortunately for me, the change of school meant that now I was the top-dawg. I was always the best in class and that was the boost I needed for my self-esteem. I saw how the change also made mom so proud and happy, so I sought to do better for her. I got very good grades all through to the end of that section of school. I had tasted good grades and all the praise that came with it, so I had to prove to myself that it was not the case the proverbial one-eyed man leading the blind. I worked hard for the rest of my school life and the grades never suffered again. Many years later I would graduate with an honors degree in accounting from Makerere University though I didn’t put that to use. I chose to venture into music which had been my passion from the start. I still don’t know how my mother let me pursue that, considering the public perception concerning musicians at the time and the fact that I was now armed with a good degree, but she never discouraged me even once. She had always said, “First get that degree then you can pursue whatever goals you want”.
I think that freedom she allowed me to have, really helped me take charge of the outcome of my decisions and not live my life bitter that someone else had determined my destiny. Whatever I have achieved or failed to achieve, I attribute to the decisions I have made, not to the direction of another. I’m not saying every parent should do this (because some passions are just not attainable and that in itself leads to frustration) but, there has to be a balance between how far the parent can push the child to pursue their expectation while also leaving them to shape their own destiny.
Mom was not much of a church going person so she was not one to shove it down our throats. However, my dad’s family are very strong Catholics with several priests answering that call. They tried to impress it upon her to take us to the nearest Catholic church but being that she was originally from the Church of Uganda (Anglican protestant), she didn’t feel compelled to. But God had a plan for me. Our next-door neighbors were a very strong Evangelical family. I was always going to church with them. It also worked out well for me because that family had 7 boys, with 3 being roundabout my age. Needless to say, I got a full dose of boyhood and good Christian values instilled in me at an early age. At that age when most parents are scared about vices their children could pick up from school, mom was sure I was attending some crusade or gospel concert somewhere. This really took a huge weight off her shoulders and helped me find myself spiritually. I am still an active Christian and that has helped me greatly, find my footing in life.
One of the greatest challenges Mom must have faced was how, as a woman, to bring up a manly man. There are topics we never ever discussed like sex. I remember (with a smile on my face) a TV drama title, The Consequences, I think it was made in Zimbabwe, but was about teenage pregnancy. It had become a fixture on Uganda Television (UTV) every school holiday. So, mom would call me and my sister to watch it every holiday. I guess that was her way of going about that. My mom’s elder brother was the closest I got to having a dad at that point. It wasn’t until I got more into church that I started to experience the role of a father through the various strong men I met there. As I look back though, my mother was the best father I could have asked for. She was gentle when she needed to be and tough when she needed to be. Her strength through adversity was passed on to us, her children and we in turn are passing it on to the generations after us. She held it together for us so we learnt how to hold it together, so we can help others hold it together. This is the story of how being raised by a Sheroe has affected by mental wellbeing.
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Article by
Nicholas Mayanja
Audio Producer, Musician & Script Writer