A few nights ago, over dinner with a workmate, we found ourselves lost in a conversation about parenting. We compared the way we raise children today with the way we were raised, and we both agreed that our generation of parents is much softer. We laughed at how we once survived tougher rules, the sticks, and discipline that seemed harsh then, but somehow made us who we are today. The conversation brought back a flood of nostalgic memories of my childhood in Gulu, Uganda, growing up under the watchful eyes of my mother. She was a single mother, raising four children on a primary school teacher's salary. At the time, I never understood the weight she carried: Feeding us and paying school fees on one hand, working full-time, doing her lesson plans on the other hand, and still planning for a future. What I knew was that when she raised her voice or her eyes narrowed, you obeyed. And when you disobeyed, the stick reminded you. Her primary weapon was a stick and caning as a form o...
Building Better Futures, One Voice at a Time