Tuesday 14 May 2013

[wanabidii] Re: Where is my home!

Evans,

Wewe ni Mkenya. Like me, I belong to the world. But, the villager in me have never departed from my soul. The lovely good old days I enjoyed chasing Monkeys down the Valley and up the ridge across the rocks, to the other side of the river, so that they can be stopped from feeding on "mbembe mugundaini," can never be traded for anything else. Those were the days we used to slide off things we called bogo bogo down the hill just to get some thrills. Bogo bogo is a huge banana trunk chopped down then made into a slid-able cart. We used to climb to the top of that steep hill, sit on the bogo bogo then slide down at lightening speed all the way to the bottom of the hill. we drew water down the stream and used it to make the path slipery. IThis made Bogo Bogo slide as though it was moving through a vacuum; real fast. Sometimes we ended with dislocated shoulders or torn ligaments. But these healed withing a week or days.

School was a challenge cause it was too demanding. Every morning I had to carry a Macheti and euphobia to repair some fence and of course to mow my designated plot in the Schools football field. Me and some Boys cut that grass in such a manner that the present lawn mowers at Manchester United's Old Traffod ground would be put to shame. We were that good. The only ground that I ever saw that rivaled that of our primary school was at Bata Ground in Limuru and that High school ground in Mosocho called Kisii High School.

If you were to take me back to that free world without the present pressures of Corruption and impunity, then I would be at home. Those were the good old days when men were men and women loved it like that. And Home was best, and not referred to as kwa akina Mbuyu. Au siyoo?

Jagem
 
Living among the Mighty requires Wisdom.


From: Evans MACHERA <evansmachera@yahoo.com>
To: AFRICA OPED <africa-oped@yahoogroups.com>; Vugu Vugu <vuguvugumashinani@yahoogroups.com>; KENYA ONLINE <kenyaonline@yahoogroups.com>; YOUNG PROFESSIONALS <youngprofessionals_ke@googlegroups.com>; progressive minds <progressiveminds@yahoogroups.com>; WANAKENYA KENYA <wanakenya@googlegroups.com>; "wanabidii@googlegroups.com" <wanabidii@googlegroups.com>; "wananchi@yahoogroups.com" <wananchi@yahoogroups.com>; uchunguzi online <uchunguzionline@yahoogroups.com>; "Kiswahili@yahoogroups.com" <Kiswahili@yahoogroups.com>; BUNGE MWANACHI <bungelamwanainchi@yahoo.com>; chochi omosweta <omosweta@yahoo.com>; "nechozb@yahoo.com" <nechozb@yahoo.com>; namba namba <francisnamba@yahoo.com>; jogoo jose <josephjogoo@yahoo.com>; "onchonga7@aol.com" <onchonga7@aol.com>
Sent: Tuesday, May 14, 2013 9:43 AM
Subject: Where is my home!

After the Boston Bombings, i heard a reporter describing the conflict of Muslims born in Asia, or Africa, who later got assimilated in mainland USA. Eventually in their young adulthood, they don't fully identify with America and further they become strangers in their native countries.
 
Under  the same scope, it is easy to see my conflict and that of many like me. our parents having migrated to urban/semi urban areas, we were born (I was born and brought up in the village)and brought up as high-breeds. by our 20's we(some) know very little about our/their traditional homes. some of us don't even know our mother tongues. we cannot relate to our ''homes'' i.e. birth place of our grand fathers for we know little or sometimes nothing about those places.
 
at the same time, we feel strangers in our ''new'' homes, where we are born and brought up. compounded with tribalism, it is difficult to claim,my home is in Eldoret ,Nairobi,or ngambo (for the case of diaspora brethren) -  it becomes confusing. 
 
so really, where is my home. Kisii, where my father was born, Nairobi where i have a house that children call their home, where i have soil i call mine and where my wife and kids are? 


Evans MACHERA.

What is the difference between a home and a residence!
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