Patriot's Diary # 37: Divine Weather

Weather…seriously; I know that’s what you must be thinking. I had never really thought much about it, but the truth is Kenya has really great weather. The weather patterns have been tampered with due to climate change here and there. But it is not every day that you can wake up to beautiful sunshine and cool weather like in Kenya. (Right: Hippo in Lake Baringo)

Even our coastal areas and desert regions in South and North Eastern Kenya respectively don’t have ridiculously bad temperatures. The humidity and heat is ridiculous compared to Nairobi but it is temperate. If you don’t believe me, you should visit Mombasa and Kisumu cities located on the shores of the Indian Ocean and Lake Victoria respectively. People walk around in suits like it’s no biggie. Ok, it’s all a matter of acclimatizing, but it beats excessive snow fall and a constant damp and dull weather.

I didn’t appreciate the weather as much until a friend of mine who’s a British journalist said he doesn’t envy his friends and colleagues in London, stuck at their desks in raining weather. We have rain seasons in Kenya, that’s when you’re likely to hear of excessive flooding. But all in all like today as I look outside my office window all I see is a clear blue sky at 10.31 am. A nice cool breeze easing in through the window and kissing my face and sunshine warming up the day; it’s beautiful. I love the weather in this country.

I think what I love about rain in Kenya is that it’s almost as if with every down pour our nation is cleansed. It looks pure and whole again. The grass and leaves and trees look greener. The Lakes look purer; that reminds me of Lake Baringo. I know I have spoken of this before, but a visit to the shores of Lake Baringo and seeing Hippos immerge from the Lake after a down pour…Amazing! There’s peace and purity about that moment that I just love.

The smell of the wet soil and the bright green leaves on trees and shrubs around that just seem to be magnets for hippos on land. But just watching the fusion of great weather and beautiful nature just makes everything alright! Come rain or sunshine, once you’ve experienced the ridiculous humidity and heat from other neighbouring nations, I say I love my country’s weather. Call it self-serving; of course it is, it’s Kenya its home and I adore every element of it. (Left: lake Baringo on a bright beautiful morning)

Patriot's Diary # 36: A Country of Linguists

It’s the home stretch as we wrap up the Patriot’s Diary series. It has been a couple of months of trying to figure out what it is that makes being an African patriot; a Kenyan, so personal and worth the fight for its prosperity. I finally figured out 5 more reasons to hit our target 40 reasons why Kenya, the African state on the coast of East Africa is worth my while.

Initially I loved school up until my family moved back to Kenya when I was eight years old. The change of the school system shocked me. It was an absolute shift; like day and night. First of all I was a tall, chubby kid who had a strong British accent and I didn’t speak a word of Swahili. It was rough; in class, the teachers occasionally cracked jokes or said things in Swahili and I had no clue of what they were saying.

Kiswahili lessons were a daily torment, initially I asked my desk mate to help me out with my homework. Then he offered to do it for me in exchange for my lunch; that didn’t last long I got fed up of him eating all my food. I was back to the beginning, I used to cry myself to sleep and most nights my mum and sister would stay up late with me, to help me out with the homework. School was dreadful.

Living away from your home country strips certain things from you. I just hated everything Kenyan because I felt like I was being forced to learn some ‘shady’ unhelpful language. I can remember at the end of my first term in school I got 10% that's waaay below an ‘F’. At some point I just hated this country and begun looking at Kiswahili as an inferior language. Looking back now, I am grateful for one thing though, that I was in a system that forced me to learn my national Language.

Well that was then, this is now. Just a few minutes ago I realized that it all was a blessing in disguise. Because the truth is, it is not every day that you can boast of being trilingual. That’s unless you are Kenyan. The average Kenyan who speaks their mother tongue and has a basic elementary education which taught them English and Kiswahili makes us trilingual. So there you have it being Kenyan equals being trilingual.

And there are Kenyans who also speak other foreign and ethnic languages from across the globe. Literally Kenya is a breeding ground for linguists. And that is another reason to shout from the roof tops about how grandeur being Kenyan is. Ciao! Oriti! Aufwiedersehen! Kwaheri! Good bye!

Patriot's Diary # 35: Pet names with some Kenyan Flavour

In every home some children get pet names; it is a sign of affection. Well…in essence that is how it is meant to be but this is Patriot’s Diary there is something about Kenyan pet names that makes them extra special! And believe you me; you are extra special when you have some of the names I’ve got lined up for you.

The usual ones mostly given to the children named after grand parents would fondly been referred to as Mummy, Daddy or Mzee (old man) by their parents. I have a cousin whose 30 and to be honest I have no clue what his name is other than Daddy! But, you see, with these kinds of names you can make it sound cool by the way you pronounce them. But then again if a Kenyan is to call you Daddy, you might just need to start using your official name because Daddy just won’t fly!

That is unless of course your family suups it with a Spanish version of your name so you are ‘Mami’ or ‘Papi’. But that is pretty much Spanish slang you’d use to hit on a guy or girl you like…maybe it’s not that cool after all.

Then there’s, ‘Chief’. I know I had mentioned that this is also a greeting! But when your pet name is chief, to be very honest I have no clue what your parents were thinking to be honest. Well after a phone call to my cousin I found out why. Her brother was named after her grand dad who was actually a chief (what do you know?!), so instead of using his actual name, the family just chose to stick to using ‘chief’!

‘Toto’ pretty much translates to child, this is commonly used on any child but some families baptize their lastborns with the name. But then again some parents just choose not to give their children another name. In Luo the word for lastborn means the same as ‘bone’; at times I am called ‘Chogo’ – ‘bone’ not the most flattering pet name on the planet is it? But I love it!

Now all the ones that I have mentioned sound pretty normal up until you hear ‘Mudu’ (Modo). Now the thing is this really is one of the nastiest names you can give your child, ‘mudu’ means person in Kikuyu. How generic can you get with a supposed pet name…for YOUR child? I mean, why call your child Ashley or Mwenda, call them ‘person’. How about that!(Above: even hyenas find it amusing)

Another community that has a special spot for mean pet names is Luos they tend to call children ‘Jaber’, which means beautiful. Nothing wrong with that right? WRONG! The reason why Luos call their kids ‘Jaber’ is to cover up the reality of bearing an ugly baby. So technically just because your luo name is beautiful it most likely means the opposite! Not the best for an insecure 10 year old to find out is it?

My brothers and sisters from the coastal part of Kenya also have a pleasant name they like to give chatterbox children; Chiriku. This is the name of a bird that chirps relentlessly. That isn’t bad. Especially when compared to ‘Boi’. All I know is it is Sheng for Boy other than that, I have no clue why you’d call your son Boi…well duh! What else would he be…

Now that is the round up of Kenya’s queerest, meanest and funniest pet names! Moral of the story; no pet names for my children! But I still love being Kenyan!

Patriot's Diary # 34: The Kenyan Family

In Kenya we joke a lot about the fact that everyone seems to be related to everyone. There are some communities that seem to literally be related to each other, not naming any names; LUOs. But with the intermarriage going on in Kenya soon enough the whole nation will be related. But primarily the average Kenyan family isn’t just the nuclear family; it’s the extended and the extended of the extended family.

Now the reason why most Kenyans seem to be related to each other than inter-marriage boils down to one single element; respect. In Kenya it is culturally unheard of to refer to an adult by their first name, so you’d always have parents telling their children that this is Auntie or uncle so and so, even if there is absolutely no relation. For so long, I used to call my father’s secretary Auntie Florence. I would ask my parents why I had to call her Aunty when there was no relation; I was always told because she is older. I used to find it really hard initially, to refer to my bosses by their first name. It’s something cultural.

But that’s all beside the point. The real reason all Kenyans claim to be related to each other is because we fish out relationships to people. This past Sunday there was a guest at our church who told the congregation that she was related to our pastor. We waited to hear what she had to say; her sister is married to Aaron Rimbui (jazz maestro & producer), whose brother is Tim Rimbui (music producer)who is married to the pastor’s sister. As you may have figured, we all burst out laughing and quite a number of people yelled; ‘Only in Kenya!’ (Above: My REAL cousins & I)

You know you’d think that when someone explains a relationship it will be pretty straight forward, like, she is my sister, first cousin, an aunt or uncle maybe. But not in Kenya, in Kenya you fish out any connection. Even though it is legitimate, we still go the extra mile to fish out every conceivable the connection.

I know I am picking on people but I can also fall guilty of fishing out connections as well. Now mine is not legitimate but it is a demonstration of how far we can go as Kenyans. Now my father happened to grow up and go to school with a gentleman called (I won’t name any names) let’s call him Mr. K. Mrs. K went to the same High school as my mum and her family was pretty close to my Mum’s. Mrs. K’s mother and the Kenyan Prime minister’s mother are sisters, I think…if I am not wrong. And Mrs. K’s baby brother happens to be a politician who is related to the prime minister. Confusing right?!

In that light, I can lie to the whole world that I am remotely related to the Kenyan Prime Minister. See how far we go as Kenyans. Now do not make me start on my connection and ‘close’ relation to President Barack Obama. Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe! So the moral of the story, when a Kenyan alleges relation to anyone really find out what the relationship is all about! After all Kenyans are all about family connections!

Patriot's Diary # 33: To be a child again...

Last year I went through a series of amazing changes in my life. I finally got to know who Rose really was and got a new lease of life! I came up with three mantras in life to keep me going regardless of the odds. The first one that just re-ignited me was,’ Let the child in you live’. If you want to know the other two you can email me and I’ll let you know. Now, what I love about children is the free spirit they have, the joy, the laughter; and that is the kind of laughter I have, explosive, limitless; I feel alive!

Growing up in Kenya is one grand experience mostly because of the outdoor games. The only down time was the homework and the curfews that screwed everything up. I always used to hate having to go home and leave my friends playing outside late into the night and I had to be in bed.

There is a number of games most Kenyan kids play; but the highlights for me are, ‘Shake’, ‘Kati’ and ‘Blada’. There was a marble game that we call ‘bano’. It is like the marble version of pool only that you were to use one marble to hit another marble to the furthest point! I never really played that game.

There was ‘three sticks’, it was pretty simple, you had three sticks (duh!). The sticks are placed together at varying distances and the winner of the game is the person who could jump the furthest; kind of like triple jump with sticks and no sand pit. I liked that one primarily because I had long legs. But I never got far, let’s just horizontal jumping wasn’t my forte. ‘Rounders’ on the other hand was the Kenyan version of baseball. I guess that makes the name add up.

Now back to the ultimate games ‘Shake’, ‘Kati’ and ‘Blada’. ‘Shake’ is the ultimate team game. It was pretty simple, there was a grid drawn on the ground, most of the time we played on estate roads, and there were two teams. One team’s role was to ensure that at least one member of the team makes it to the end of the grid without being touched by the team that will be on the grid. The team that was on the grid, had members aligned horizontally on the grid that shuffled left to right and an individual in the center who shuffled up and down.

‘Shake’ is a game of strategy. The aim was to capture as many members of the opposing teams in a grid lock, tap and eliminate them. At times the team in the grid would have a strategy where everyone lies on the ground and reaches in to eliminate members of the team. I can remember when the team leader, normally the person in the centre, said ‘lala’ (lie down) we dropped to the ground and eliminated the enemy…muwahhahahahahahaha (I couldn’t help myself).

But the challenge for the players in the grid was to ensure they never left the grid while tapping people out! That always caused uproar; when there was that final team member slipping through everyone’s fingers only to be eliminated by the silly sellout in the team on the grid who left the grid. That was always almost tantamount to gaming suicide. No one would ever want you on their team after that.

Then there’s ‘blada’. The ‘blada’ was pretty much a cut up piece of tyre rubber into one really long strip tied at both ends. This normally requires three players. Two players act as pillars where the rubber strip is wrapped around their legs and one player is required to jump in a certain pattern into and out of the rubber strip.

Like any game there are levels. So with each successful jump the rubber strip inches up the two individuals. So it starts off around the ankles, inches to the calves, knees, hips, waist, under the armpits, shoulders and finally the neck. This was mostly a girl’s game. You need to see it; girls would tuck their skirts into their knickers and make some really funny head and hand co-ordinations to psyche themselves up.

And the ultimate of ultimate games was ‘Kati’ which is Swahili for center. This is a three player’s game. It was a simpler version of dodge ball. Two players were pitchers, who were to hit the player at the center with a small rubber ball. The aim of the game wasn’t just to eliminate; it was to hurt the center player. This is the game you’d play with your arch enemy as a kid! I can feel it now, eat dirt all you teasers and meanies.

However, if the player at the center was good at playing catch you were screwed, because if they caught the ball and hit any of the pitchers; they scored more points and you’d be stuck throwing the ball. I was always hit on my bum; I have no clue why to date.

Now I want to play! Catch you all later; I am off to find some playmates for the re-match of the decade!