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Growing in up country
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Things have changed in modern society for sure, some times it strike me whether the globalization is ‘where we are supposed to be rather that where we were’ or that maybe I get confused because I haven’t changed much as the changes dictate. I grew up in upcountry of central Kenya. Until I moved to work and study in urban, vast green fields, natural reserves and communal life where anybody dared to mind others business was what I knew. Though the family and neighbors were not a ‘haven from selfish mankind’ the love and care of others was radiant, when a bride got married we had a share of the dowry and when one departure from us we shared the tears too. The legends of brave humane and patriotic ran from one generation to the others, passed to us through the music, dances, storytelling and riddles. I remember for instance the legends of Mugo Wa Kibiro, he prophesied of long smoking iron snake sleeking through our motherlands which later came true in the name of railways. As a boy I could never get enough about the legends of men who left their wives or young warriors who sworn patriotism and fought for our independence. I wished to be one of them and spent awesome time daydreaming about that. All this legend rings though my head everyday fresh as I listened to my grandmother who I lived with.

Living in upcountry I was never depilated of luxury which came in terms of freedom of exploration and experiences. Though there were no malls, cinemas or kid’s playgrounds filled with toys and bouncing castles, we run bare footed across and deep into the jungle. We were wild and free. Hunting for hares and gazelles with our miniature bows and arrows and dogs. I remember one dog ‘Chita’ coined from cheetah, he was strong and brave, I even thought I saw bravery in his eyes. We swam in the rocky rivers, gathered wild fruits and cooked sweet potatoes in the fields. One time I took a young buck home but after two days, it was so sick and looked out of place. I could tell from it watered eyes and meek bleat. It was out of place just like I feel here in the polluted and crowded urban.

My family was typically humble just like others so we lived in an imminent tension of bad harvest, school fees, hospital bill and that stuff people take for granted. But my parents always found money for my school fees, class trips and Christmas clothes- not having a Christmas new shoe or pants was so demoralizing just like Christmas without night vigil mass in the village.

Life was cool; we didn’t live in total depravity or crime prone neighborhoods. Respect, wisdom and generosity was what made name for a person though today manicures, pedicures, bar fights and flashy wallets determines a man success. And sometimes I feel like pity for them or probably more pity for our country. Working in fields’ enhanced hardworking and prepared us to face the adulthood responsibilities, failure to finish ones chores meant a half ration or no supper. “A lazy man can’t stand eating as it is work too’. After day work we all gathered around the fire place inside a smoky hut, cousins, friends and neighbors and then my grand ma sitting at her place like a goddess telling us stories, folks and riddles. Her marvelous smooth and wise voice taking us to that world of reality show, the cracking firewood, glinting crickets, choirs of frogs in nearby stream sounded from dark silent night, resonating and rhyming with her voice like a musical background.

At high school that is when I started to drift from home. With students from different backgrounds it was a ground of diversity and problems too. Though I’m okay with all people and respect the same, I sometimes gave a timid bow to peer pressure but would snap back to myself. See! I couldn’t forget where I came from because I wanted to keep my Identity and values. I couldn’t stand letting down my folks neither could the family accept a heir who couldn’t make own legends. I see it now; they wanted us to have better lives than they had.

Growing up there gave me a different perspective of life. It was full of teachings and acknowledgement of realities that I could probably never had learnt. The urban new environment presents me with better options, chances as well as more challenges and obstacles. I have to live on ‘my self’s’ like most of others alone fight or flight from problems while still keeping my head high enough to see beyond the horizons. I’m not ashamed or full of regret about my past. Instead the past give me strength to move a step forward. Well! Living in a small house, not driving a fancy car or wearing trendy fashions like my age mates used to give me ulcers. But when I look back and then beyond the horizons, I see so much work to do, think about the disorganized society, culturally uprooted as my grand ma says ‘ trees lives by their own roots’, and then I realize that it will take courage and suffering to make my own legends. Though I feel comfortable in the urban, I still feel like should do something more to fit and make it right, like I must go an extra mile to prove I can belong here as well as be myself. Though I must change some of my past, I have pride to say that past has much to do with who I am today.

September 7, 2008 | 11:47 AM Comments  0 comments

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