7 Lessons From My Mother That Still Shape How I Lead in IT

There is a time and season for every activity under the sun. And this Mother’s Day week is a time to honour you, my beloved mother, Her Excellency, Lady Theresa Ituma.

Seven lessons, one for each day of that week. Every one of them has followed me into my work in IT.

Lesson 1Reliability Is Love in Action

One of the most powerful lessons you taught me was not taught with words. It was taught with your life.

You showed me that reliability is love in action. Before I ever knew what reliability meant, you had already shown it to me.

You conceived me. Carried me. Protected me in your womb for nine months. Long before I could cry, speak, ask, thank you, or give anything back, you were already carrying responsibility for my life.

That thought humbles me.

You were the precious womb through whom my life was carried while I was still invisible to the world.

And when I think about you, I am reminded of the sacred role mothers play in the world. Before leaders rise, before inventors create, before nations are shaped, before families are built, there is often a mother carrying, nurturing, praying, correcting, sacrificing, and believing.

You were my first covering. My first place of safety. My first example of what it means for someone else to carry weight on your behalf.

As I have grown older, I have realised that reliability is not always loud.

Most of the time, it is quiet. It is someone showing up again and again. Doing what needs to be done. Holding things together when no one is clapping. Making sacrifices that may never be fully understood at the time.

That is what mothers do. And that is what you did for me.

It has also shaped how I think about leadership and responsibility. Even in cloud and infrastructure operations, reliability is rarely accidental. Stable systems do not stay stable because people care in theory. They stay stable because someone takes ownership.

Someone watches. Someone prepares. Someone notices the small things before they become painful things. Someone carries responsibility so others can move with confidence.

Mum, you taught me that before I ever worked in IT. You taught me that reliability is not just a technical standard. It is a human one.

This Mother’s Day week, I honour you for many things. But today, I honour you for this: you showed me that love is not only spoken.

It is carried. It is protected. It is repeated. It is dependable. And reliability is love in action.

Thank you, Mum. I honour you today and always. I am grateful to God for giving you to me, and to the world.

Lesson 2The Work Nobody Sees Shapes the Excellence People Notice

Mum, I still remember something you said to me when I was a child. I came home from school one day and showed you a piece of artwork I had done. I was expecting applause.

But instead, you looked at it and asked me a question I have never forgotten: “Is this your work, or did you trace it?”

Thankfully, I told you the truth. I had traced it.

That moment stayed with me. Not because you embarrassed me. Not because you discouraged me. But because you helped me understand the difference between a copy and an original. From that day, I started learning how to draw without tracing.

At first, it was not easy. The lines were not as clean. The work did not look as impressive. But it was mine. And little by little, I kept practising. Over time, I got better.

Then something changed.

Later in school, other students started coming to me when they needed help with drawing. Some would gather around just to watch me draw. Others paid me to create pieces for them. Looking back, I realise that one honest correction from you opened a door I did not even know was there.

What began as correction became confidence. What began as honesty became skill. What began as hidden practice became visible value.

Whenever Dad or anyone in the family needed creative work done, I was often called.

But it started with that one small moment. A mother noticing something that looked insignificant. A mother asking the right question. A mother refusing to celebrate what was not yet fully mine.

People may see the standard of my work today. They may appreciate the attention to detail. But they may never know the story behind it. They may never know that part of it began with you teaching me not to trace, but to build.

That lesson has followed me into my work in IT. In cloud and infrastructure operations, the visible outcome is only the final result.

People see the stable system. The clean process. The resolved incident. The reliable service.

But they do not always see the hidden work behind it. The reviews. The corrections. The documentation. The testing. The quiet out-of-hours work. The small improvement made before it became a serious problem. The discipline to fix what others might ignore.

I have learned that excellence is rarely accidental. It is often shaped quietly, long before anyone notices.

Mum, you taught me that before I ever worked in IT. You taught me that originality matters. You taught me that hidden practice matters. You taught me that the work nobody sees can one day become the excellence people trust.

And for that, I honour you.

Thank you, Mum. I honour you today and always. I am grateful to God for giving you to me, and to the world.

Lesson 3You Saw the Music in Me Before I Did

Mum, I still remember when I was a child and you took me to a supermarket. You offered to buy me a piano. But I did not want the piano. I wanted a toy armoured tank instead.

I cried for it. And you bought it for me.

For a few months, I was happy. Then I got bored. Only later did I understand what had happened. You had seen something in me that I could not yet see in myself.

You saw the music. I saw the toy.

Years later, the music still found its way out. I learned the recorder. I played drums in school. I sang.

And even in my IT career, that creative side never really left me. At one point, I composed a Continuous Improvement song to help create awareness around steady growth and improvement in business.

Looking back, I realise that you were not just trying to buy me a piano. You were noticing a gift. You were making room for something in me to grow.

That has stayed with me. Because in leadership, one of the greatest things we can do is see potential before it becomes obvious.

That matters in IT too. Sometimes the thing that will create long-term value does not look exciting at first. Sometimes the piano is less attractive than the armoured tank. But maturity is learning to recognise what will last.

Mum, thank you for seeing the music in me before I did. Thank you for giving me room to grow, even when I did not understand what you saw.

Thank you, Mum. I honour you today and always. I am grateful to God for giving you to me, and to the world.

Lesson 4The One Who Seeks, Finds

Mum, I still remember the day we went to a large open market. It was crowded, busy and noisy. Then, somehow, in the middle of all that movement, we lost each other.

There were no mobile phones then. Just people everywhere.

But you kept searching for me. You did not stop until you found me.

I still remember the relief when we were reunited. Although I may not have understood the full danger of that moment as a child, I understand it better now.

Thank you for not giving up. I do not know what might have happened if you had stopped looking.

Whenever something got missing at home, you would always say: “The one who seeketh, findeth.”

At the time, it sounded like one of those things mothers say. But that day, you lived it. And you searched until you found me. And I have carried that lesson with me ever since.

Even now, when I am looking for something, those words still come back to me. I say them almost without thinking. And I keep searching.

That lesson has followed me into my work in IT too. I remember facing a technical issue at work that made no sense at first. I checked what I could. Asked colleagues and researched online but found no solution. One month passed, and still nothing. And the pressure was already building.

At that point, I was becoming frustrated and almost ready to give up. Then your words came back to me: “The one who seeketh, findeth.”

So I stayed with it. Eventually, I found the root cause. Then the solution.

Mum, you taught me persistence long before I had the language for troubleshooting, root cause analysis, or incident resolution.

You taught me not to quit too early. You taught me that some answers only reveal themselves to people who keep searching.

And for that, I honour you.

Thank you, Mum. I honour you today and always. I am grateful to God for giving you to me, and to the world.

Lesson 5True Formation Happens When Trust Is Real

Mum, I remember the times I was sick. You would come to me, ask what I wanted to eat, place your hand on me, and pray for me to get well.

That was care.

But there is another memory that still moves me. Whenever you were sick and I was around, you would call me and ask me to lay my hands on you and pray for you.

At first, I did not understand it. You were the adult. You were the mother. I thought you were the one who should be praying for me.

But you insisted. So I would stretch out my hand and pray for you to be well.

Looking back now, I realise what you were doing. You were not just asking for prayer. You were building something in me. You were showing me trust. You were giving me room to grow. You were helping me believe that what I carried mattered.

That did something to my confidence. It formed me in ways I did not fully understand at the time. You taught me, not mainly by words, but by your actions, that people grow when trust is real.

You taught me that formation does not happen by control alone. It happens when someone is given room to try. Room to serve. Room to carry responsibility. Room to become.

That lesson has followed me into my work in IT. It has helped me understand the importance of giving people opportunities after they have been taught. Not doing everything for them. Not keeping all responsibility to myself. But allowing them to practise, learn, make progress, and grow into maturity.

It has also taught me humility. Because sometimes, we do not only learn from those ahead of us. We can also receive from those we are helping to raise.

Mum, thank you for trusting me before I fully trusted myself. Thank you for giving me room to grow, even when I did not understand what you were forming in me.

Thank you, Mum. I honour you today and always. I am grateful to God for giving you to me, and to the world.

Lesson 6Learning Is Living

Mum, one thing I have come to admire about you is your commitment to lifelong learning.

I remember the days you taught me while I was growing up. The times you helped me with my school homework. The books you bought for us, from childhood into adulthood.

The way you kept reminding us that education mattered. At the time, I may not have fully understood the weight of what you were building in us. But I understand it better now.

You were not just helping us pass exams. You were opening our minds. You were teaching us to keep growing. You were showing us that learning does not end when school ends.

That lesson has followed me into my IT career. In technology, you cannot remain relevant if you stop learning.

Systems change. Tools change. Expectations change. The marketplace changes. And the people who keep growing are often the ones who keep creating value.

I am still on that journey. Still learning. Still growing. Still trying to stay useful, relevant, and prepared for what the future requires.

Mum, thank you for opening me up to the path of lifelong learning. Thank you for making education feel important. Thank you for encouraging me to go all in.

Thank you, Mum. I honour you today and always. I am grateful to God for giving you to me, and to the world.

Lesson 7Invest in the Next Generation

Mum, as I close this Mother’s Day week tribute, I keep thinking about one thing.

You are still teaching.

After all these years, you are still learning, still sharing, still pouring into people younger than you. That says a lot about who you are. You did not only raise children. You raised values. You raised confidence. You raised faith. You raised a way of thinking that continues to live in us.

Some of the things you taught me made sense quickly. Others took years. Some I only understand now because life has made me look back. And the more I look back, the more I realise that many of the things I carry today started with you.

• The way I take responsibility seriously.
• The way I keep searching when something is difficult.
• The way I pay attention to details.
• The way I believe people should be given room to grow.
• The way I still value learning.
• The way I want my work to matter beyond myself.

I can trace so much of it back to you.

Even now, you are still investing in young people. You are still giving from the wisdom life has placed in you. You are still speaking into younger lives. And when I think about that, it really touches me. It reminds me that legacy is not something we wait to leave behind. It is something we build in people while we are still here.

Legacy is also what we pour into others now.

And that is one of the reasons I care so deeply about early-career IT professionals. I know what it means to believe in someone before you fully understand yourself. I know what it means for someone to correct you, encourage you, pray for you, and still give you room to grow.

You did that for me. And in my own way, I want to do that for others.

To help shape people who will not only become technically good, but also be grounded, responsible, confident, and useful in their generation.

Mum, thank you for showing me that a life well lived does not stop with personal success.

It reaches into other people. It plants something. It leaves something behind.

I honour you not only for being my mother. I honour you for the legacy you are still building. And by God’s grace, I will carry it well.

Thank you, Mum. I honour you today and always. I am grateful to God for giving you to me, and to the world.