Meet the women behind the idea.

Motherhood Reconstructed is the brainchild of Social worker, Fashion Designer, Sneaker wearing, Multi-tasking Procrastinator and Mother of one Tamu Thomas. Realising there was a huge gap in the market for positive representations of Black Mothers, Tamu decided to create a space to sprinkle positivity. She enlisted the help of equally procrastinating Graphic Designer, Social Media Manager, Unicorn lover and Mother of one Leah Samuel to help bring Motherhood Reconstructed to life.

They both believe that Motherhood Reconstructed is needed today because…

I want to challenge the systematic and very troubling narrative of black people, primarily black mothers because I am one.  My narrative is either absent or misrepresented by the mainstream media and the systems that govern, leading to stereotypes becoming the accepted narrative rather than a narrative based on reality.  I recognise that this is steeped in history spanning over centuries, however we have the information in the palm of our hands.  Continuing on this path despite the abundance of information that is available is negligent.

I want a positive space where I can showcase black motherhood in all its splendour, heart ache, challenge and humour some elements will resonate with all mothers but there are many that only a Black mother would understand… For example your nine year old telepathically willing your wig to stay on when the tornado wind on the escalator tries to reveal the doo doo plaits under your protective temporary ‘fro (that’s some real Black love right there).

Google black mothers, the results are not an accurate reflection of what I know.  It’s time to reclaim and reframe our narrative.




Because sometimes you need someone who just gets it.

Because our experiences, while the same as other mums is also very different.

Because I don’t have the time or patience to explain for the hundredth time why there’s chicken wrapped in foil in my bag.

Because on the days when the house looks like Tas of Tasmania has come round with his mates and had a party that Bruce Banner gate crashed, you need someone who gets why you’ve chosen to plait your daughter’s hair for swimming tomorrow rather than attempt to organise the mayhem.

Because somewhere out there there’s another Mum sat at her computer or watching TV sipping on Sorrel, eating plantain chips with her headscarf on and she gets it, all of it without you having to explain, headscarf included.

Because despite the internet suggesting you don’t exist and my Google search being downright traumatic. I know there are others like me, others who don’t fit the stereotype.

Because I know I’m not alone but I don’t know where to find you.


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