M is for Mazi

There’s a school of thought that says a woman need not have felt the pangs of child birth to experience motherhood.

My nephew Hamza makes this statement true for me.

Mazi is our nickname for him. Not sure whether it was the way he said his name as a baby, or whether his little sister, Sofiyyah, said it that way… But that’s what we call him.

I consider myself a surrogate parent to all my nieces and nephews…if for any reason their parents cannot be there, I will be. But it’s different with Hamza. When my sister was pregnant with him, I used to speak to him through her belly all the time… First time I held him, oh man, I can’t even describe the feeling. When he was four months old, she had to go back to campus once a week for evening classes… And every Wednesday for 2 hours, he and I would have a date, roaming UCT’s upper campus and cafeteria until he cried for boobs or his mom was finished with lectures.

He is always excited to see me. More often than not he will cry if I have to leave him or he has to leave me. He’s been eating from my plate since his system could handle solid food, and will randomly come sit on my lap because he wants “Tietie cuddles”.

He is the one person who I know loves me unconditionally (whenever I ask him how much, he always says “infinity”). He is my small person, and even though I didn’t give birth to him, he is very much my son.

My initial topic for today was something else but it changed with a phone call I received two hours ago. My sweet boy was admitted to hospital this evening with a suspected case of pneumonia.

And so if you’re reading this, please remember him in your prayers, and ask the Almighty to grant him a quick and complete recovery 🙏

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