Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Wanjiku's Dilemma, A Play By Oby

Something to look forward to in the coming weeks, a play by my friend Oby. Gives me a reason to go back to the theatres

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Martina

The previous weekend I travelled to my rural home where I got to meet my paternal grandmother. My grandmother is called Martina. I don’t think anyone is quite sure of her age but it commonly assumed that she was born in 1910, which puts her at 101 years. There is however a strong suspicion that she was born slightly earlier but nobody is too sure. She often jokes that God has forgotten about her, that is the reason why she has not passed on while all her peers have moved on. She says that at times she tries to catch God’s attention so that God will go like, oh, she is still around! Then her days might come to pass.

Because I arrived late on a Saturday evening, I did not get to go to her house till the following morning. Her house is bare. There are a couple of seats in the living room and then an old bed in her bedroom. Nothing else. It looks like she does not own much and yet last year when I visit her she told me that she is very wealthy. This is because she has children and grandchildren who have made something out of their lives (though I have to admit some of us are a bit crooked and we have had our issues! ). At times I think that I don’t have much but when I look at her…

My Grandma, martina

About 17 years ago when I was preparing to go to college in distant lands, I went to see her to say my farewell. By then she was very weak and could hardly see and I believed that I was laying my eyes on her for the last time. Five years later when I came back, she could see quite clearly and easily recognized me. Her memory was still great and she walked around and even attended to the shamba. Now she can hardly see and cannot move on her own. Someone has to lift her from bed and once she has been set somewhere she will not move until someone carries her to another place. When I visited her the other week, she could not recognize me. Usually she’d hear my voice and quickly recognized ‘her husband’. Not this time. My mum spoke to her for about 5 minutes before she recognized her. My dad came in and just by speaking one word, she recognized him. Of course that’s her son.

I have asked myself whether I’d like to grow that old. Be in a state where all if not most of my current friends and relatives are gone, where I’d struggle to move and recognize my family…at times I tell myself no, but then recognize it is a blessing….