Being Kenyan on Madaraka Day

Happy Madaraka Day!
Quick recap: this is a national holiday in Kenya that "celebrates the anniversary of self-government." It dates back to June 1st, 1964. It's often confused with Jamhuri Day, our Independence Day that was on Dec 12th, 1963. However, I'm not going into the political aspects of the holiday. I'm making this personal! This is about me being a Kenyan.

I am purely Kenyan: my passport and experiences prove it. I was born and bred there like my ancestors before me. It's my home because that where my roots are. There is so much to reminisce about: Farmer's Choice sausages and chips, slaughtering a goat for Christmas, braving pot-holed, muddy roads to go shagz & visit grandperoz, being welcomed into homes with hot chai, boarding schools, report forms (aiming for no. 1), mitush, VM, Splash, going to the show, buying sweets and bread at the local kiosk, crazy neighbors, friendly neighbors, dressing up for church, the comforts that peroz worked hard to provide, holidays, plucking chickens and cooking for visitors, shopping @ uchumi, the local market, etc. Life wasn't perfect, but I couldn't imagine being from anywhere else. I like to share my growing up experiences with people who have a limited view of Kenya. Of course, our wildlife is important--we've enjoyed those trips to Masaai Mara (it has the most beautiful sunset I've ever seen). And it just happened that a famous marathon runner or two lived in my old neighborhood. We're proud of them! But what about the majority of people whose lives revolved around other things? There are so many stories...that's why blogging is so great! We get to hear some different and some similar stories that connect us and teach us things we'd never know. KBW was a great idea.

Anytime we celebrate an anniversary whether it's a birthday or the birth of a nation, we reflect on where we started, and how far we've come since then. Somebody famous (who?) said "life is a journey, not a destination." On that note, I'm going to quote something I wrote on August 9, 2003:

[Before my sister and I came to study in the United States 2+ years ago, our father, a very wise man, told us this: He said that it is important to know where you are from. I didn't fully understand it then, but now I have seen the light. Our culture is our identity--it makes us distinct so we are not just another faceless person in the crowd. And this is very important when you live in a country where you are classified as a minority--and associated with all the negative things that come with it. When you have a sense of self, it gives you pride and dignity and helps you keep your focus. After a while, people will notice that you are different and you can excel at what you do. When I was in Kenya, I used to be amused when a person gave a lengthy introduction, "My name is so-and-so, my father is...my mother is...my home village is...the nearest market is...in this location...in that sub-location..our chief is..and our MP is...." then the person would continue to give a mini-history of his family--including marriages and children. Now I understand why all this is imporant. We need to have a sense of history and know where we came from as we try to find our place in the world. ]