Rita Oghenero Omuero
Chicago, Illinois, United States

In the days leading up to her due date, I called my sister, Chioma.
“Sister, how far?” I greeted her in our usual way.
“I dey o!” she responded. I could hear the fatigue in her voice.
“When did the doctor say the baby was coming?” I asked.
“Some days, or a week from now,” she replied.
“What about Mom? When is she coming? Has she gotten her visa?” I asked.
“Mom is having issues with her visa,” she replied.
“That’s not good,” I said. “Will she make it to the US before you have the baby?”
“I don’t think so.” The pain in her voice was palpable.
“Don’t worry, Sister Ngozi should be able to help with the baby in the first weeks before Mom arrives,” I said.
“But I wanted Mom to be here for the birth of my son like she was for the birth of my daughter. I wanted her to be here for my omugwo,” she said.

Omugwo is a Nigerian traditional postpartum care practice performed in the first thirty to ninety days after delivery. Omugwo is practiced by the Igbo tribe in Nigeria, but different tribes have similar practices with variations in the number of days, food, celebrations, and ceremonies. A woman’s mother usually performs omugwo after delivery. She moves in to stay with her daughter and the grandchild, helping with childcare, bathing, soothing, massages, and feeding. She sometimes sleeps in the same room as the baby to allow the new mother to rest and recover from the stress of delivery. She teaches her how to care for the baby and the traditional and cultural practices of her people. She also prepares dishes with herbs that soothe the mother and help with the flow of breastmilk and lochia.

When our mother came from Nigeria for Chioma’s first omugwo, she arrived two weeks before the baby was born. When she told her friends and her sisters why she was going to America, they sent gifts for both mother and baby. The day after Chioma had the baby, Mom made soup with lots of pepper and Nigerian spices—the type recommended for postpartum women—and gave her massages with hot water all over her body and belly, and a sitz bath. In the next days, she tied Chioma’s belly with an African wrapper for a couple of hours per day so the belly would return faster to a pre-pregnancy state. Mom bathed baby Ada with warm water, massaging her body and head and applying palm kernel oil all over her body. I remember Chioma telling me how much Ada slept at night after one of those spa/bath sessions with Mom.

Some days after the delivery, the pastor from the Redeemed Christian Church, a Nigerian church, was invited to the naming ceremony. The ceremony started with prayers; the pastor prayed in Yoruba and English while Mom prayed in Igbo, after which the list of names was presented to the pastor and was read out by Yemi, Ada’s father. The names came from both grandparents in Nigeria, as well as from our parents and Chioma. In Nigerian culture, naming ceremonies are usually done on the seventh or eighth day after delivery. Mom stayed for four months for the omugwo. Dad came to visit in the last month. Chioma was pleased and well-rested during this time.

Although Chioma cried when Mom left, she had learned so much about childcare that she was able to help her friend Tolu with omugwo after she had her first baby. Because of the financial cost, Tolu couldn’t afford to have her mother here and was helped instead by friends and church aunties. This is the fate of some African diaspora women who have babies abroad without their mothers or immediate families to support them. Tolu experienced childbirth in both the US and Nigeria, and told us about the differences in those experiences. After having a baby in the US, she felt sad, resentful, and alone. The baby was always crying and she did not know how to comfort him; she was exhausted, sleepy, and in pain from the delivery. Her breastmilk was not flowing in the first few days, and she did not know what to do. Although friends came to assist with cooking and cleaning, she missed her mother and cried a lot.

When she had her second child in Nigeria, she never felt alone. There was a lot of help and support from her mother, friends, and extended family. Her mother, aunt, and two cousins came to live with her after the delivery. They helped with baby care, cooking, cleaning, and many celebrations. Her mother took care of the baby at night while she slept. She was well rested and never expressed any of those sad feelings she had after her first delivery in the US. She believes having that support from her mother and extended family during the omugwo practice is what made the difference.