Christmas is around, but truth be told, that shit has lost it's past hype. Back in the day for us who grew up in village, that day meant a lot. That is the only day we got to ride in a "personal car" when our cool auntie who lived in Nairobi came to shags for the feast. That was also a day to eat that big bread, queen cakes and also hang around your cute cousins who lived in the City, were of light skinned while the rest of your entire clan are as dark as that line/stich that runs below the msendes all the way to the bells..
BUT everything was not always rosy. On Chrismas day those of us who were born and bred in the village were treated like shit.. We were not even allowed to bathe while our cousins from the city were treated in a royal way. My grandpa would wake me up very early and tell me to go graze sheep some 5 kilometers away from the homestead as the cool cousins were left behind taking part in watching as goats were slaughtered, eating chapatis and eating top layer of meat.. I would come back late in the evening, dirty and smelling like a pig. By that time the cool cousins have already bathe and clad in expensive and exotic party clothes.. I would not be allowed even to wave at them. By that time meat has already been eaten and the only thing remaining is 'matharigo'(hooves of goats), that chapati that lost shape and burnt on the pan, soup already added water until fully diluted and 3 pieces of meat that everyone had previously rejected..
Those atrocities and historical injustices commited against me made me hate Christmas.. I actually NEVER go to grandpa's place for the feast for the last 8 yrs.. It's such mean treatment that shapes who we are today. If you bear me say "wekelea dry fry kilo moja, na uweke mahali umenona vizuri '' don't be shocked, I am trynna revenge for the crimes against humanity cimmited in the past.
BUT everything was not always rosy. On Chrismas day those of us who were born and bred in the village were treated like shit.. We were not even allowed to bathe while our cousins from the city were treated in a royal way. My grandpa would wake me up very early and tell me to go graze sheep some 5 kilometers away from the homestead as the cool cousins were left behind taking part in watching as goats were slaughtered, eating chapatis and eating top layer of meat.. I would come back late in the evening, dirty and smelling like a pig. By that time the cool cousins have already bathe and clad in expensive and exotic party clothes.. I would not be allowed even to wave at them. By that time meat has already been eaten and the only thing remaining is 'matharigo'(hooves of goats), that chapati that lost shape and burnt on the pan, soup already added water until fully diluted and 3 pieces of meat that everyone had previously rejected..
Those atrocities and historical injustices commited against me made me hate Christmas.. I actually NEVER go to grandpa's place for the feast for the last 8 yrs.. It's such mean treatment that shapes who we are today. If you bear me say "wekelea dry fry kilo moja, na uweke mahali umenona vizuri '' don't be shocked, I am trynna revenge for the crimes against humanity cimmited in the past.
