It is either all black mothers are sisters or they have an annual meeting in which they discuss the manner in which to raise their young – fabulous concept if you ask me. Of course, it is scientifically more plausible that they are genetically related (obviously), than that there is a meeting in which women gather to talk about how to raise their children. That said, ponder the following odds with me. Since moving to the US, I have made a number of Zimbabwean friends (if I am being honest, I snuck my way into their circle because they are so fabulous) and it is with two of these friends that I went to see Jesus Christ, Superstar at the Kennedy Center for Performing Arts. Before the show started, we were discussing the cast, and we had high expectations for the music (at least I did) – mostly because it was my first time seeing a show in the Opera house, better yet, a musical. One of my friends then mentioned that her mother used to sing her songs from Jesus Christ, Superstar when she was a child, and that was when it hit me – my mother used to do the same, so much so that I knew and loved the song “Could we start again” long before I was sitting in that Opera house experiencing Jesus Christ, Superstar.
When my friend had suggested we go see the musical, it didn’t occur to me that this had ever been mentioned to me by my mother. I didn’t even google it, the fact that the show had “Jesus Christ” in it was enough for me because I have been getting the increasing urge to see more of Christ in media (topic for another day). I remember another friend of mine summarizing the show before I saw it, saying – it portrays Jesus as a rockstar which further intrigued me. Perhaps the fact that I was already anticipating something that touched my soul deeply enhanced my experience because it was a great show! However, what sticks out to me is the feeling I got when I realized that like my friend, my mother had sung me songs from this show when I was a child.
When the song – ‘Could we start again’ was up, I felt the arms of my mother around me, singing to me on the veranda of our home in Makurdi. I remembered asking her where I could find the record a few years ago and her telling me that it was a show on TV back in the day that no longer aired. I also remember giving up on finding the record but to see/hear it live in a city I never knew I’d live in, was surreal. Life is unbelievable in the way that it knits your destiny long before you can tell, and while wishing I could bring my mother to see this show in this theatre, my joy was amplified in knowing someone else had the precious memory of Jesus Christ, Superstar because of a singing mother.
