I inherited her light - A Tribute to my Mothers Creative Legacy

It started with a sparkle....

They say creativity is inherited, passed down like a precious heirloom. For me, that heirloom was the creative energy in my mother’s hands. My childhood memories are filled with watching her enjoy stitching, painting, crocheting, and creating. She had a quiet way of making it feel like art. 

Whether it was making clothes for herself or us, or cooking a delicious dinner, it’s from her, truly, that Sohavi Jewellery was born. I wanted to create jewellery that was more than an accessory—a keepsake, a memory, a way to hold love close.

I remember my mummy sewing intricate outfits, hand-painting fabric with delicate precision, and transforming threads into beauty with a crochet hook. Every stitch and swirl she made carried a story, a feeling, a whisper of her soul. She didn’t just make things—she proudly infused them with her love and life. She tried to teach me how to crochet once, but I just couldn't learn it; she was so fast and highly skilled. Recently, family friends remembered how she used to dress us up as children in her hand-embroidered dresses. She would gather us to sit close to her at the Gurudwara when we lived in Nairobi, Kenya.

Watching her create taught me to appreciate the value of quality and details, the importance of patience, and the beauty of things made by hand. She showed me that artistry isn’t always loud—sometimes it’s in the curve of a lace edging or the luxurious softness of pure silk fabrics and delicate embroideries, which she loved to wear.

Growing up, I wasn't really aware of her incredible creative influence on me. But I was absorbing a lot, and my home environment became a natural extension of my own aspirations. I think she truly sparked my creativity when I gave her a complicated Asian fusion kameeze design to make for me, and she challenged me to make it myself. This clearly led me to go on and study Fashion and Textile design at Ravensbourne.

She showed me how to sew a white pin-tuck shirt, which I wore to my interview at the London College of Fashion. It was finished very late the night before my interview. I remember so well how impressed the lecturer who interviewed me was. So many memories are flooding back as I write this; my heart longs to see her again. She taught me so much.

Michelle Obama, who lost her mother last year, wrote a lovely post on Instagram recently saying, "You’re enough because of the people who have poured so much love and wisdom into you. And even in their absence, their light emanates through you."

My mother passed away quietly in her sleep in the early hours of December 20th 2024. she was 88 years. Since then, I’ve found myself not only grieving the loss but reflecting deeply—not just on her life. I’m trying to make sense of it all; her life was difficult, she suffered loss and decisions were made for her when she young and wasn’t able to assert her own voice, like many South Asian women of her generation. But she lives on through me and the profound influences she had on me throughout my life. 

My Mummy loved jewellery, and what stood out most to me was her love for earrings. No matter the day, no matter what she wore, she never felt complete without a pair—perhaps this is an inherited cultural Indian thing. Amongst her favourites were elegant pearl earrings as well as some beautiful 22ct gold hoops. I think of her often when I design something new. In many ways, each design is a quiet nod to her.

When I started Sohavi Jewellery, I wanted to do more than just sell pieces; I wanted to continue a legacy of creativity and storytelling. Each collection I design holds a piece of my mother—the spiritual and heritage influences she raised me with. Her legacy lives on not just in memory, but in every sparkle and shape I share with the world. Sohavi Jewellery is more than a business; it's a love letter to her and the beautiful light she brought into my life.

My mummy, Savinder Kaur Nagi (her maiden name), was born in 1936 and raised in Kisumu, Kenya. Her parents, who originated from a small village near Jammu & Kashmir in India, had emigrated to Kenya in the early 1920s when India was under British colonial rule. My grandfather, Jivan Singh Nagi, is known as a Sikh Pioneer who settled and started his own engineering business in Kisumu, a small, bustling town on the edge of Lake Victoria. But this wasn’t his first business; he had a very successful foundry he started in India with his brother, and then a mysterious man reached out to him and said, "come to Kenya...!" and the adventurous, entrepreneurial spirit in him followed his heart. It seems that working with metals is clearly in my DNA as a jewellery designer. 

From a young age, my mummy had a love for learning, but her dreams were curtailed. I remember her telling me how her father took her out of Kisumu Secondary School right when she was thriving, enjoying her studies, and feeling full of potential. That decision left a lasting wound and changed the trajectory  of her dreams.  As a child, I was acutely aware of her sadness around this. She often spoke about what could have been, what she might have achieved if only she’d been given the chance. Her dreams were never fully realised, and I feel I carried the weight of that with me, even before I could name it. 

And yet, she didn’t let her light dim completely. During her time in India, and before she returned to Kenya in 1963, she earned a dressmaking certificate—a rare moment as a young adult where she could reclaim some of what was taken. As I was going through her belongings recently, I found that certificate. Holding it in my hands, I could almost see the pride in her eyes. I remember how animated she became whenever she spoke about going to college, how her face would light up. It was more than a piece of paper—it was a quiet victory. Her creativity wasn’t something she learned; it lived inside her. It’s that same intuitive creativity that shapes my work with Sohavi. But our bond goes even deeper.

When I first started my business, she would cheer me on and loved wearing the Gold Princess pendant with pride. But life had other plans. As she began to age and her health started to fail, I found myself caring for her. Dementia began to set in and she became vulnerable and could not be left alone. Even though I had professional help with carers, the business would often have to be put on the back burner, gently simmering and waiting patiently.

My mummy's womb was my first home, the place where I began absorbing her patterns, beliefs, hopes, and traumas. Even before I had a name, through vibrations of sound and feelings, my nervous system responded to her joys and sorrows. I didn’t just inherit her genes—I inherited her story too.

Now, in this new chapter without her physical presence, I find myself asking:

•  What did my mother give me emotionally, spiritually, and energetically?

  She gave me quiet resilience, a sense of wonder in the act of making, and the unspoken knowledge that beauty is a form of healing. She passed on her grace, her softness, her ability to find dignity even when dreams were deferred, and, most importantly, a deep connection to spirit through which creativity flows, like a meditation.

  What did she withhold, and what has that created in me?
• She sometimes withheld her deeper pain—perhaps to protect us. But it left me always watching her closely, trying to decode what wasn’t said or what she felt she couldn't talk about. It made me sensitive to the unspoken, to what lies beneath the surface. That sensitivity is a part of my work, creating meaning behind each piece so that it resonates with the wearer.
• In what ways am I still seeking her validation or fighting her shadow? Part of me still wishes she could see me now—really see what I’m building. I think I’ve been creating not just for myself, but to honour her, to finish what she never had the chance to start. I remember when I first started my business, sharing my struggles and wins with her, and she was so proud of me and so encouraging, saying, "keep going." It’s only really now, after her passing, that I’ve come to realise I was doing it for both of us.

• What part of my soul is evolving through this bond?
  A profound realisation is that a part of me is learning to honour my lineage while still carving my own path. The part that understands that healing is not about erasing the past but a metamorphosis into transforming it. Through her, I’ve learned that creativity can be an act of remembrance—and of liberation. And there are days I want to shout, “Mummy, look! I’m doing it—for both of us.”

  Sohavi Jewellery is not just a business. It is a tribute. A continuation. A reclaiming of the dreams my mother couldn’t live out and a celebration of the legacy she left me—not just in thread and fabric, but in storytelling imbued in metals, adorning the wearer to feel strength, spirit, and soul.

  Thank you, Mummy, for lighting the way ❤️