• I went from being a 'deadbeat' relative to one glad to be back as I hunt for a job
Image: HANNIE PETRA
A lot can change in two years. A lot changed in the two years I was away. Never used to be the most enthusiastic in spending the holidays in shags. The first three days would be okay during Christmas, but past that, a total nightmare. Now that I look at it, I was definitely exaggerating. Only to realise the gift I actually had: family.
Around Christmas, popularly, you will see tweets like, “Niko ile location nyuma ya ID”, and for a long time, I didn’t like the idea of it. I wanted to stay behind in Nairobi, at home. Not having to travel to the countryside. And in an act of rebellion for two years, I actually managed to do that. Going completely ghost. A deadbeat relative.
Now that I was back, I cherished the experience. Taking a deep breath of the fresh air that surrounds me. The cold, misty weather that I had kind of missed. I filled my glass with the clean water that ran through the taps. You wouldn’t dare to drink directly from the taps in Nairobi without following a few decontamination procedures.
With every now and then, my grandmother calling out my name and making sure I was fell fed. She knows too well my big three: milk, eggs and chicken. She even now had a new orange cat and I had left one with white-brown fur. Extensive renovations had also been done to her house and it took more of a modern form but still retained the many memories that had been created over the years.
As always, I was very excited to see my relatives. I mean, isn’t it always a pleasure to link up with your mother’s side than that of your father’s? Or is it just me? The latter are evil and bad vibes, geez!
One of my proudest moments was telling people, with a huge smile on my face, that I was already done with school, whenever they asked which level I was. I treated everyone as a future employer or connection in that instance. “Hata ni kazi sasa natafuta,” I would say towards the end.
However, the biggest blessing was witnessing five living generations of my family. Starting with my great grandmother, who is 104 years old, down to my nieces and nephews, who were as little as two years old.
My maito has always been a good storyteller. Her memory is quite impeccable after living for more than a century. Her most significant stories are those of the Mau Mau revolution. She narrates how she was among the women who secretly used to take food to the warriors hiding in the forest. The many times she was arrested and tortured but still fought and stood for the liberation and freedom of this country.
I guess it's history repeating itself through different generations. Fighting for different causes but still under the same regimes that have their hierarchy deeply rooted. And as Carl Jung says, “No tree can grow to Heaven unless its roots reach down to Hell.”