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June and its Blues

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On June 1, 1963, Jomo led Kenyans in celebrating the annexation of the nation from the jaws of colonialism. It was such a joyous occasion, I am informed. In the countryside particularly, the peasants were in such a pompous mood. Nevertheless, I am happy to have been born years after colonial subjugation had long been put to a close and a government of the people in line with the latest democratic fashion in town was operational. Honestly, other than personal freedoms, every other government that has taken over the reins of power has taken us for some tomfoolery. Sadly, there’s nothing much to celebrate five score years after attaining self- governance from British imperialists.
However, I would be such an  ingrate if I fail to pragmatically appreciate the efforts that our freedom fighters partook on our behalf. Precisely, that is the reason I will juggle my memory this month ever time I watch the late night news. I will thank God for ferocious Kimathi and the relentless Kenyatta for using them as vessels for his people (You & I) to cross to the promise land. Each time I look at the grizzled whiskers of that man of the old, or the unperturbed smirk on that Kimathi guy chained to colonial cuffs, I am besides myself with admiration. Or, at best, each time I watch Hillary Ngw’eno’s The Making of the Nation I am awed at the unusual gusto Jomo spoke as the Union Jack was lowered. In his speech, he carried the hopes of a nation, a nation free of racial or tribal prejudice. Sadly, this hope faded because he (Jomo) and Uncle Dan set a bad precedence. Therefore, this month, I will take time to pray for my beloved country. I will beseech the Lord of Moses to remember his people in ‘Egypt’ and to deliver them from the decadence and debauchery of their own political systems. And to free His people from their own representatives who have cajoled with pride, ineptitude, greed and extortion.

Yet there are many other reasons that remain indelible in my calendar of life. When June came calling, I had every other reason to get worried. Not even Neyo, a friend of mine could convince me to allay fears because ‘every little thing was gonna be alright.’ He often acquaints himself with Bob Marley or Tupac when life decides not to give a damn. Well, the reason behind my worries is facile simple. Ever since I left campus, the first few days into a new month finds me unfazed. It’s rent day and the caretaker has no time for my usual jokes during these days. I couldn’t have been happier this June when the caretaker picked our slip and walked away with disdain. Poor Kenyans, I honestly didn’t know how difficult it can be to raise and pay rent in time. It’s been two months since I left campus. No job forthcoming yet, but like the lion of Judah, I am never throwing the towel yet. After attending church for the first time this year this week, the clergyman inundated my world with the David v Goliath analogy. With faith and belief, the clergyman declared, you will slay the Goliath that has been a hindrance in your life. AMEN. This month, I must slay my Goliath of unemployment with all zeal and enthusiasm my innate strengths can ever decipher or master. 

In a way, 16th of June forced a way into my calendar. Before then, each day for me was galore but until last year, the heavens opened strange sheets for me.  A meticulous a life she led, but it was cut shot. Gone in the wind, like a whisper. Her dreams for a better tomorrow suddenly were cast into oblivion. She was a great friend and confidant.  I still recall the super cool countenance she maintained during her last stages of enervation.  She taught me how to endure without having to complain to God. Judy, as was her name, must be casting crowns in heaven where she’s found eternal peace.

When Fathers’ Day comes calling, please remember to appreciate them for who they are and thank God for them. It is the best feeling one can ever feel when they know there’s someone to wrap their arms in when things are going willy nilly or when they are feeling low. And before I get going, I almost forgot that the 28th of this month happens to be the day I jumped out of my mother’s womb. I will be glad for your warmest wishes. I will be grateful for the birthday gifts you will send. Until then, see you there.

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