

By Dr Marlene Attzs
Economist. Email: marlene.attzs@gmail.com
Mother’s Day arrives each year wrapped in flowers, cards, and carefully chosen words. It is a day of gratitude—deservedly so. I recall a friend who owned a popular flower shop, and he would admit quite candidly that Mother’s Day was one of the days every businessperson looked forward to—the cash register rang non-stop.
But beyond the bouquets and gifts, Mother’s Day should invite us to pause and reflect more deeply on what motherhood truly represents—not just in our homes, but in our society and our economy. If you think about it, motherhood is an act of love. But it is also something more. It is structural. It is economic. It is foundational.
In our faith tradition, we understand this instinctively. The image of the Good Shepherd reminds us that care, guidance, and protection are not abstract ideals—they are lived responsibilities. And in many homes, it is mothers who quietly embody that shepherding role every single day. And yet, paradoxically, this labour remains largely invisible in our economic systems.
We track productivity. We debate fiscal deficits and growth rates. But we do not measure the hours spent nurturing a child, caring for a family, holding together a household under financial strain, or providing emotional stability in times of uncertainty.
These are not small contributions—they are the very glue of society. But because they are unpaid, they are often undervalued. This is the quiet contradiction of our time: the most essential work is often the least recognised.
In Trinidad and Tobago—and across the Caribbean—this reality is even more pronounced. Many mothers operate at the intersection of multiple pressures: rising cost of living, limited access to affordable childcare, shifting labour market demands, and in some cases, single-parent responsibilities.
Mothers, as heads of households, stretch incomes, manage households, support education, and still find ways to give love generously. They are, in every sense, economic managers—stretching limited resources, making difficult choices, and ensuring that somehow, there is always enough.
This reality was captured decades ago in Edith Clarke’s seminal Caribbean sociological study, My Mother Who Fathered Me, which showed how women often assumed both roles of mother and father—holding families together in the face of economic and social constraints.
Clarke’s work reminds us of the strength and resilience of motherhood, but also the systemic gaps that place disproportionate responsibility on women.
Economic resilience begins at home—in the mother who keeps her family stable, fed, and her children in school. Motherhood also shapes the future of work. The values instilled early—discipline, empathy, perseverance—are the very traits that define productive citizens and innovative economies.
If we are serious about building a competitive, inclusive, and sustainable economy, then we must recognise that investment in mothers is investment in the future workforce.
Supporting mothers must go beyond sentiment to real support—childcare, fair wages, flexible work, healthcare, and recognition of unpaid care. These amount to smart economics—because strong mothers build strong families, stable societies, and growing economies.
And we must recognise that motherhood in the Caribbean is diverse, spanning biological and non-biological roles and including both those who are thriving and those who struggle quietly.
On a personal note, I give thanks not only for my mother, whose legacy continues to shape me, but also for the many women who mothered me along the way—godmothers, ‘proxy aunts’, teachers, and even a secondary school principal—who, in their own way, provided guidance, discipline, and care when it mattered most.
On Mother’s Day, we must honour all of them. We must also acknowledge that motherhood is not without its challenges. We must also hold in our thoughts especially those mothers for whom the reality of our times, where crime is all too present, has taken an unthinkable toll.
Mothers who have had to identify their children in morgues. Mothers whose grief is beyond words. I often find myself asking: who is looking after these mothers?
Mother’s Day, therefore, should not only be about appreciation. It should be about recognition and responsibility. Recognition of the immense, often invisible contribution mothers make. And responsibility—on the part of families, communities, employers, and governments—to support them meaningfully.
The work of mothers may not always be counted but it is always felt. And like all public goods, those things that benefit all of us, even when they are not paid for it, deserve investment, protection, and respect. So today, we say ‘thank you’. But let that thank you be reflected in how we value, support, and uplift all mothers: biological mothers, mothers-in-law, spiritual mothers, stepmothers, godmothers, grandmothers, aunts, and the many women who, through love and sacrifice, step into that sacred role of nurturing, guiding, and sustaining life.
Let Mother’s Day be reflected in how we honour the women who have given so much quietly, consistently, and with unwavering love.
That’s My Point of View!