Who Raised Us?

Who Raised Us?

By Baba Kateb Nuri-Alim Shunnar

How can we know… unless we have a teacher?

How can we build anything sacred when we don’t even know the blueprint?

We got homes with doors but no fathers walking through them. We got babies but no mamas that know how to mother. We got men that plant seed but don’t know how to prune a garden. And women who want weddings but don’t want war because marriage is war. A spiritual war. A war for your soul, your peace, your lineage.

And some of us out here trying to build nations… and ain’t even learned how to sweep a porch.

Let me talk plain, like my grandmother Celestine used to talk with a switch in one hand and a Word from God in the other. She had more parables than the preacher and more side-eyes than a Baptist usher.

She’d say:

“Boy, don’t sit there talking about you a man just ‘cause your voice deep. A man ain’t how loud he roars, it’s how well he covers. Can you be quiet long enough to listen to God? Can you hold your anger long enough to hold your child? Can you build a house without tearing down the woman that’s supposed to live in it?”

And then she’d cut her eyes at the young women and say:

“And don’t you think being cute is enough. That’s how Eve got got! Don’t come crying to God talkin’ ‘bout why He didn’t send a husband when you never learned how to be a helpmate. You want the crown of a wife, but got the spirit of a spoiled daughter.”

Yes… Grandmama Celestine didn’t play. But she prayed. She’d get up before the sun and hit that floor with knees that cracked like dry cornbread and pray life into dry bones.

And that’s what we’ve lost the PRAYING mamas. The wise, weathered, warring women who could shut down a demonic attack with a pot of beans on the stove and a “yes Lord” in their spirit.

Now? We got 40-year-old girls raising 15-year-old mamas. We got men who get offended when you ask them to read a book. We got women learning relationships from Instagram reels and expired advice from Auntie Who-ain’t-never-been-married.

We are BROKEN. And not in a cute, poetic way. In a chaotic, generational trauma, soul-drenched kind of way.

And here’s the hard truth: You can’t be what you’ve never seen.

How do you learn to be a mother when the only example you had was a woman surviving, not thriving? How do you become a father when the only thing you inherited was a name and some anger?

We don’t have villages we have group chats full of advice from people who never healed.

Our people have learned to hustle pain, make trauma trendy, and turn dysfunction into personality traits.

We got dudes who think being faithful means texting one woman at a time. We got ladies who want a husband with six figures, a six-pack, and six hours of free time… but they can’t even cook six eggs without burning the pot.

Let me speak plainly with a little spiritual sarcasm: If your grandma had five kids, worked three jobs, prayed every morning, made hot meals, and STILL found time to say, “Lord I thank you,” then what’s our excuse?

We complain about stress while binge-watching shows about stress. We cry about loneliness while ghosting the very people who try to love us. We don’t want healing we want attention with filters.

But I write this not to shame you, but to warn you as one who has walked this path and seen the danger signs ahead.

This ain’t just a Black issue it’s a spiritual famine. A famine of fatherhood, motherhood, commitment, and character.

So how do we fix it? How do we rebuild what we never saw?

We start small. We start honest. We start together.

For the Brothers:

• Stop chasing validation in every skirt that walks by. Chase VISION.

• Men, learn to walk hand in hand with your woman with the Creator as both of your guides.

• A real man doesn’t run when it’s hard he kneels and asks the Creator for strength.

• Apologize. And mean it. You don’t lose power when you admit you were wrong you GAIN wisdom.

For the Sisters:

• Don’t trade your crown for clout. Influence means nothing if your home is in shambles.

• Woman, stop looking for a man to lead you what are you, a horse? Learn to work together.

• Learn to pray for your children.

• Men, don’t cut them with your tongue.

• And when your man falls short, don’t turn into his enemy. Don’t be petty. Turn to the Creator.

• Women, don’t run when times get hard. Don’t fold. Don’t seek inspiration from your friends who have no spiritual relationship with the Creator.

• Be teachable. Being strong doesn’t mean being stubborn.

• Learn the art of intercession. Your prayers can shift an entire generation.

For Us Together:

• Let’s stop trying to be "right" in arguments and start fighting to be HEALED.

• Let’s normalize family meetings, not just family funerals.

• Let’s raise our children to be whole, not just woke.

• Let’s go back to being accountable to elders. You ain't too grown to be corrected.

• And for both men and women don’t think the grass is greener on the other side. Yes, there are plenty of fish in the sea, but that doesn’t mean we should go fishing.

We need prayer circles, not gossip circles. We need warriors, not worriers. We need homes where laughter is louder than yelling. We need mamas who bless the house with oil and daddies who bless the house with presence.

Let me leave you with a Celestine classic:

"If you want your home to stop falling apart, then stop building it on ego and emotion. Build it on the Rock. And don’t forget to sweep under your own bed before judging your neighbor’s roof."

The village is not dead. It’s wounded. But if we can get back to each other… if we can sit down long enough to listen, pray, heal, and commit then we can rebuild.

And if nobody else will start the drum, then let Baba Kateb beat it first.

We’re not too far gone. We’re just one honest conversation, one real hug, one sincere prayer… away from healing.