Patriot's Diary # 25: Kenyan Christmas

This is the third time I am writing this entry. I am not quite sure what it is that I really want to say. I know I love Kenya, I won’t lie that I love Christmas and idolize it like most but I learnt this Christmas that it’s about family.

The typical Kenyan Christmas preparations begin with colossal amounts of shopping for those who can afford it. But even for those with meager incomes afford themselves the financial stretch to get a ‘taste’ of Christmas.

Goats, cows and chicken are bought alive and in mass. You see it’s not just about having a fried bird on your plate; it’s about how you slaughter it and prepare it. It’s a ritual. I know this may sound gross to the unfamiliar. But it’s during Christmas that children learn how to slaughter, slice and dice the meat for cooking. Primarily because there is a distant uncle, cousin who seems really cool when they do this and it makes a good story to share when schools open.

The making of Chapatis and Pilau are so integral in the meal. Then for the older folk, Ugali (maize meal dish) is a must have. The saturated air of all the sumptuous meals is inebriating. The crates of sodas and beer for the adults, and the dilute-to-taste juice being swirled and diluted in huge buckets with children hovering around dying for a sip. Every meal is vast in size. It’s a feast, endless eating and drinking and merry making. And if you have a mother like mine, decorations are a must have. My mother has Christmassy decorated table linen for this occasion. It’s an open house for all, especially when you are in the village.

From 6am there are villagers and the late family arrivals banging at the gate ready to make merry. I enjoyed it as a child it was something to look forward to. But now, well, it’s just another day off. Well that was until my best friend; Ashley invited me over to spend Christmas day with her family and some of our friends. Let’s just say the scrooge that was within me fled the premises when I got to her parents’ place.

It was the epitome of a Kenyan Christmas. The warmth of Christmas began with the teasing aroma of Ashley’s mum’s famous Pilau. It made me so hungry. I gladly remembered why I was there; to feast into the late night. There was so much food; there was Mukimo, (a specially made mashed potatoes mixed with beans and corn), roast goat meat, fruits salad, chicken, more chicken and more chicken, Pilau, more chicken. Honey glazed chicken and lemon and garlic chicken. There was kachumbari, (salsa) that was perfect with the roast meat which was all washed down with some soda.

I ate so much sitting upright was a problem. Don’t get me wrong I am an ‘activist’ against gluttony, but there is one day of the year that is excused from the activism calendar; Christmas! However anti- Christmas you are, there is something about a good meal, great laughs and a drink that melts scrooge away! Then there was ice-cream, heaven! Now writing this is just making me hungry. Ashley and I then chose to pick the sweets the children didn’t want to eat (maybe we just took them). It was a fabulous.

I think what I love the most about the Kenyan Christmas I experienced this year, is the fact that it is purely catching up. It’s time to just get to know what each person has been up to. It’s the perfect time for every family member to really find out what the other person has been up to, what they think and what they aspire for without the usual parental patronizing.

I had spent Christmas with my friend last year as well. But it was surreal seeing the same faces again and a year had already gone by. Some of the children were moving to their final year in high school or primary (elementary) school. Some children looked 3 years older than they actually were. They had grown so fast. It was surreal. A year has come and gone and well what to show for it? That thought just gives me chills.

Out of all the things that I have mentioned that I love about my country, this one is universal. Christmas is about the family. A time to share and treasure the bonds that we hold dearest to us, even if it means meeting the annoying relatives!