Merry Christmas
They say Christmas is the time to meet and share as friends
and family. This Christmas I decided to go back to my roots, deep in Nyeri County
to carry out the ‘annual ritual’. Well it has been months since I visited this
place. Unlike the noisy, busy and not so fresh environment in Nai, I find a
calm, receiving and fresh environment in Nyeri. I was back home. FYI this is
where I grew up, from a breastfeeding
infant to a breast chasing adolescent and now opus dei, ooh wait really? Let’s leave
that for now.
So I got a chance to meet some of my old friends who I only
get a chance to see on Facebook, of course not twitter or instagram, for
obvious reasons. I have met former classmates who are ‘happily’ married, others
are single mothers, runaway fathers while some like me , have decided to concentrate
and study Opus dei, please note its studying not practicing .
On 25th evening I decide to visit the nearest
shopping Centre; an old and dust place with utmost 5 shops, 7 churches, 14 bars
(something usual in central Kenya), a coffee factory and one barber. I almost forgot
the popular hotel owned by my neighbor, they call him Senegal>> a name
adopted after him being a popular Supporter of Senegal in its heydays. Being a
popular face around here, I put on hooded jumper to avoid attracting attention.
Attention in our shagz means you will part with at least 20 bob for every tom
dick and harry who greets you or else they will walk away saying how broke you
are and praying that the gods strike you with a thunder ; this is a no go zone
for a man of high reputation like me who has been unable to clear a 750 bob
loan on mshwari, so its safer to hide under the hood.
Soon enough I find myself in Senegal’s hotel. Lucky for me ,
no one notices me easily. I settle for a table at the corner, I make a quick
order of Uji Kubwa which is served in a calabash; of course it’s a tradition here.
As am quietly flipping through the newspaper (dated 22nd January
2005) , I overhear a discussion by 3 guys (wachira, Kamotho and waiganjo) who
are very well known to me being that they were 3 classes ahead of me in primary
school. They are discussing Kabiru, a seven years old boy who has been living
with his grandma since he was born. Kabiru’s mum, Wanjira was married when
Kabiru was 3 years old but the man could not take the boy since he was not his.
So Wanjira left the boy with the grandmother and went ahead to be married by
this guy who did not want to take up the son. For all those years, the boy has
known nothing but suffering…
The story continued on and on, I was not able to concentrate
as my mind tried to figure the situation of the boy whose mother sacrificed for
her selfish intentions, the man who cares more about himself than a little boy
who cannot even eat an eight of his plate, the woman who makes a boy suffer
from her mistakes, I am disappointed in this society which allows this to
happen.
Do we embrace love before ambition, what are our priorities?
Why do we sacrifice what matters for what seems smarter. Do we love people for
their perfections or the flaws that make them perfect? Call it judging people
or whatever you may but we can do better.
Ashamed