By Ajah Eric
Thanks be to God! Keni
sighed. Enough of lengthy lectures, assignments and tormenting exams ….
Keni’s
second year at university had just come to an end. Though he was keenly aware
that the educational journey was not over, he was more than relieved that he
was going for the holidays. A change is as good as a rest, his primary school
head teacher used to say. And this break would be for a whole four months!
Keni
had everything going for him. Having just turned twenty two, he was young. He was
healthy. Though somewhat short in stature, he was generally reckoned handsome.
He also possessed many talents. His achievements in school and community made
him stand out among his peers. Together with an insuppressible optimism they
also made virtually each one of them desired to associate with him. They hang around him. He was their respected
leader. He, in turn, relished the adoration.
Keni’s
parents were convinced beyond any doubt that their beloved son would be someone
in future. They made it their mission to play their part in ushering him to his
destiny. It was home to his supportive parents in Nakuru that Keni now went. He
was warmly welcomed, as usual. That evening his father, Joe Robinson, informed him that a holiday job had already
been secured for him, and that he was to report to work the following Monday.
“Am
very grateful, Dad. I always tell my friends that my father is the Number One Dad
in the world. But I’m very sorry …”
“What
worries you, Son? You need not hide your feelings from me. I have told you time
and again that the joy of life lies in sharing feelings, ideas and thoughts. You
must always be frank with me. Now, talk to me. What is the matter?”
“I,
I wish to pay Grandpa a visit. I have missed him … I’d really love to see him. Even
if only for a week.”
“Only
that!” Joe Robinson exhaled. And he did not conceal his pride when he added, “Permission
granted. You have my blessings, my son.”
*********************
It takes about eight
hours to make the journey from Nakuru to Kujumoru by public transport. On hot
days like the Friday that Keni traveled on the journey is particularly tiring –
especially the last couple of hours when one is sold from one uncomfortable overcrowded
matatu to another on the driver’s whim. Keni arrived in the village in the evening.
He was accorded an excited welcome. The talking went on till around 10pm. Keni
was thoroughly exhausted when he knocked off. He slept soundly.
When
he woke up the next morning no one was in the house. Keni washed his face and
brushed his teeth. Not knowing what to do he stepped out of the house. It was
then he saw Grandpa. The old man was weeding his coffee in a shamba that was a
stone’s throw away from the house. Keni walked towards him.
“If
all people were as hard working as you our country would be very prosperous,” Grandpa
said on seeing him. And he laughed. There was neither rancor nor hostility in
the in his peculiar coarse voice.
Keni
could not help but smile, albeit embarrassedly, at the greeting.
“Where
can I find a jembe?” he asked.
That
evening after supper Keni and Grandpa sat in the living room. At first it
seemed to Keni that their conversation drifted from topic to topic, but he
would later remember that Grandpa dexterously steered it from friendly port to
friendly port and finally brought it to anchor in the talk.
It
started innocuously.
“I
know you are wondering why I still till the land,” like a prophet the old man had
read Keni’s mind. Keni had been wondering why the old man punished his ageing
body yet he had workers.
“Don’t
worry. I am not doing any harm to my body. In addition, the digging makes me
strong”, Grandpa laughed. His face broke into wrinkles. The wrinkles were the
most obvious signs of the old man’s advanced age. His slim body and the joy he
possessed gave the impression that he was much younger. And, of course, Keni
had seen just how strong he was earlier in the shamba.
“And
I love the land. Listen, child of my son, on the land lie large deposits of
precious stuff – gold and silver. No, no, no; I am not talking about mines and
all that. Just land like this one. No one invests in it and sleeps on an empty
stomach. Fifty years ago, when your fathers and aunts were in school, I used to
wake them up at five o’clock in the morning to plough before going to school at
six. This very land gave us their school fees.
“I
know things change. And in your time there are other equivalents of what land is
for me. There are all kinds of jobs now. But there are constants in life. To
start with, my grandson, you should not drink alcohol. I am aware that in the university
the majority find drinking liquor pleasurable. Do not join them. Alcohol is
poison. And so is tobacco. It is foolish to go courting cancer, you know. Do
not do things because others do them. Do things because you have thought about
them and determined that they are good for you. Drink water, if you feel the
need for a refreshment drink. Water is healthy. Soda may be non-alcoholic but
it is not very good for you. But you are the learned one here so I’m certain
you know about all this.
“I
know, and I am proud, that your today is pregnant with good things that will be
seen in the near future. You will get a good job that will also be well-paying.
It should be so. But keep this in mind. The amount of money you make does not
matter. What matters is how you use it. You may earn a million shillings a
month, but if you use it carelessly … assuredly I tell you, you will die poor. Do
not allow yourself to become one of those many employees who have nothing in
their accounts. They cannot produce a quarter of their salary since they
started working. The reason is that they are focused on matters that are
current and oblivious to tomorrow. Use money wisely.
“Don’t
get me wrong. Riches are good. They make it possible for one to enjoy life on
earth. All I am saying is be careful on how you use your money. Do not invest
in wasteful projects that cannot yield profit. Better use your money to help
widows and orphans. That is the true religion. And avoid the things that are
making the people of your generation die long before their fathers and
grandfathers.”
Keni
listened attentively to his Grandpa. This was a sermon like none he had heard
before. He discerned that he was being directed by a friendly wise hand to his
proper destination. A feeling of great humility descended on him. He wanted to
cry the first cry of a child that has just been born.
Ajah
Eric is a student at Moi University.
