“Sweet Mother” by Cameroonian-Nigerian Prince Nico Mbarga is a song that I’ve heard no less than 100 times. I’m almost sure it was played at every African party I’ve ever attended. It still bumps today, right next to Davido’s “Assurance”. (You can battle me on this, but you won’t win.) Why? Because in the way that only pidgin-English combined with afrobeats can, it simply, powerfully and sentimentally communicates the unmatched love of a mother for her child.

“Sweet mother I no go forget you
For dey suffer wey you suffer for me yeah

When i dey cry my mother go carry me
She go say my pikin wetin you dey cry yeah yeah
Stop stop! stop stop! stop stop!…

My earliest African parties were spent at the side of my own sweet mother, who was likely coordinating the event and effortlessly looking like the Congolese queen that she is, in the process.

“When i wan sleep my mother go pet me
She go lie me well-well for bed
She go cover me cloth say make you sleep
Sleep sleep my pikin oooo…

I love my mother. Not because of her perfection or suffering, of which she has both, but because she mothers with everything she has — flaws and all. She has tirelessly and impeccably navigated raising two children outside of her home country, and makes every effort to empower us to navigate our experiences with grace and confidence.

My mother — business (L), evening (M) and Summer Casual Fridays (R).

“When i dey hungry my mom go run up and down
She dey find me something wey i go chop
Sweet mother ay, sweet mother oh

When i dey sick my mother go cry cry cry
She go say instead wey i go die make she die
She go beg God, God help me, God help me, my pikin oo

If i no sleep, my mother no go sleep
If i no chop, my mother no go chop

I recently came back from a trip where I had the opportunity to meet some phenomenal colleagues in Kampala and Nairobi. My daily hustle is communications in tech, where I’m constantly thinking about the best way to share a message. On my trip, I led a few workshops on communication — specifically cross-cultural communication, communicating constructive feedback on a highly digital, distributed team, and introducing yourself for impact. But for some reason it was difficult for me to think of a topic for my own Brown Bag discussion. I asked a colleague for a recommendation and she suggested talking about being raised in the U.S. by African parents, and what it was like to navigate between two cultural identities. She playfully said, “It might be fun to explain where that American accent is from, when you have a [Ugandan] last name. Share who you are and what it means to be in both worlds.”

“She no dey tire ooo
Sweet mother i no go forget dey suffer wey you suffer for me yeah yeah

I did my best with the Brown Bag. As I was talking, it hit me just how much my mother has influenced my path in communications. She has given me the words, resilience, confidence and exposure to communicate with impact. So, here are five things I’ve learned from my mother about communication.

1.Sometimes, you just have to put yourself out there. I tap danced, played the viola, swam, sang and did public speaking really, really early. If there was a stage, my mom put me on it. It has made me somewhat fearless with large crowds. I recognize that those opportunities were a privilege that my mom made sacrifices for me to participate in. My mom recognized early that children gain confidence from standing before a crowd. Those days of performing have also taught me not to get frazzled when things go terribly wrong on a large stage, professionally, even when you’ve prepared.

You grin, bear it and improvise. The only way to get better with this is to take risks where you may fail. All of those years of performance, taught me to have grace under fire.

2.If you want to be effective — considering the thoughts and feelings of others is not optional, it is required. My mom has a heart of gold and she’s sensitive to the needs of others in a way that is admirable. As a child, and also as an adult, my inclination was to quickly and intuitively measure up a situation and fix it by saying what was on my mind. Seeing my mom listen to situations and respond to them with an ear for the emotional needs of others, gave me a balanced perspective that I treasure. Even if you have the most effective solution, it will fall on deaf ears if you fail to connect with your audience — and sometimes that connection is an emotional one.

3.Embrace what makes you different — don’t be ashamed of it. My mom is the quintessential perfect student. She follows the rules and knows the instructed policies. On any given work day you will find her sharply dressed, putting her rule-abiding, yet head-turning, spin on corporate business professional attire. For many years that was topped with a classic coif- the iconic 90’s style french roll. But summers were for microbraids, and on casual Fridays, she never failed to be dressed in African prints.

From long dresses with flared sleeves, to beautiful tops she repped her culture in an environment that was the exact opposite. She stood out, and she wasn’t ashamed. My mom never tried to fit in. She presented herself, as she was, playing by the rules, but never letting the rules play her out of her culture. She taught me to communicate confidence with style.

4.Read. My sister and I were recently talking about how we used to sneak away books from my mom’s library. It was so big that she never noticed, until one day when my mom walked in to my sister’s room while she was reading one of her novels. My sister panicked and snuck it under her bed. I love my sister so I’ll save the rest of the story.

We both discovered a love for reading from my mom. She’s been in a book club since before I can remember. I think I naturally have a love for words — but I learned to respect the power of composition from reading. My mom’s love for books, and strong encouragement of reading, exposed me to the power of storytelling. Good storytelling is the definition of solid communication; and you learn how to tell good stories by reading good stories.

5.Knowledge really is power. There’s a common thought that one’s ability to speak English is a reflection of their intelligence. I strongly disagree with this thought. Speaking English is not a qualifier for intelligence. English like any other language, is a tool that can be used to express and understand thoughts, feelings, ideas and knowledge with others. What I did learn from my mother, is whatever the language of your choice, you should know it. She started learning English at 14 years old, and she easily speaks it better that most people that I know. She has high standards — my sister and I can attest to moments where we’ve tried to use colloquialisms around my mom and she was memorably aghast.

I realize now that it wasn’t about always speaking the “right” way, it was about having the agency to communicate with any audience with full confidence.

So, to my Sweet Mother, who has nurtured me, guided me, and given me the building blocks for communication that I use on a daily basis for work — thank you. Thanks for playing audiobooks every night before I went to bed, thanks for never actually telling me the definition of a word and telling me to, “look it up,” thanks for wearing the finest African print to work on Fridays, thank you for filling my world with books, and thank you for always reminding me to think about what I say before I say it.

Everything you’ve ever taught me, has prepared me for where I am now. I love you and Happy Mother’s Day.

5 Powerful Communication Tips I’ve Learned from my Sweet Mother Happy Mother’s Day to my personal communications Queen