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Dababy


 Caroline Kamaitha, 42.


CEO at 30. Top 40 under 40. Mom at 42. How did we get here? 

My father was an army man, extremely private, instilling in us a sense of discipline with a shot of paranoia. As a result, I set a yardstick—no one would outwork me. By age 30, I was the CEO of a hotshot blue-chip company. In Zambia. I was working, chasing paper, chasing deadlines, chasing the wind. 

10 months ago, I had Gigi, my child. A bewildered and bleary-eyed 42-year-old mom. I thought this was like any other job. Easy peasy. It’s funny isn’t it? You think you are teaching your kids but you end up being the student. 

If I’m being honest, perhaps I may be a tad bit addicted to work. I get some kind of satisfaction from getting stuff done. Would you believe me if I told you I wanted to work till the last day? But Gigi is teaching me patience. She has humbled me. I always was the Big Kahuna, but now, she’s the boss. I thought I was to raise her, but she’s raising me. I love watching The Simpsons—now I’m cherishing every episode—for I know the days of 24/7 Cocomelon are nigh.

Motherhood is a mixed bag of emotions. She’s still in that cutie pie stage, where her voice is angelic, a touch coquettish. You don’t have to believe in magic to know when you’ve encountered something magical. What is it they say, ain’t no hood like motherhood? 

Am I worried that she will grow up too fast? No. Or that I’ll grow too old too fast? Also, no. Or that soon, all the baby will want to listen to is DaBaby? Ok, maybe a little. 

My friends are probably on their third child and here I am, jostling between diapers and reviewing the job description of motherhood. But, I’ve raised my career like a baby, and it’s not been too shabby. 

Parenthood is a pound-for-pound affair, you give as good as you get—and with my dwindling energy, I sometimes wonder, can I match up when the little one is bursting with bouts of adrenaline? But when her toothless grin lights my inner world like a prism, illuminating all the sundry colors within, with that cheeky chuckle, that giddy giggle, ahh, talk about magic.  There I am, I think, there I am. It is poetic interlude in a prosaic life. 

So when that day comes when the mother becomes the daughter, we will read these Masterclass stories and clink our glasses and say, thank God I Googled the lyrics to DaBaby.


- As told to Eddy Ashioya

#bikozulu

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