First time..

I am sitting in a cafe having lunch with my friend. We can't stop laughing. Exchanging stories of first times.....

My sisters were born in a town setting and the lifestyle they knew was that of Kenyan towns back in the day...like any other hardworking parents. My parents bought a big piece of land. It was a tea farm in central Kenya. The landscape was breathtaking and the crop was a cash minting machine. life was good or so my parents thought.

This morning my mother went to attend to some business in town she had to leave early to catch the only public vehicle plying the route. She requested a neighbor to ensure my sisters made it to school on time. It was the first day of school,the girls were ready on time by the time the good neighbor came to check on them. She walked with them for a distance to ensure they were OK. Suddenly one of the girls halted and started to retreat. The kind lady went to see what had caused the backward walk.. It was but a pool of wet cow dung! This town girl had never seen cow dung this was her first time. The kind lady jumped over the cow dung and reached out to my sister to lift her over this strange thing. My sister started to scream so loud my father heard her and came sprinting with a machete in his hands.(it was his first time to run).

The kind lady had now folded her hands not knowing what had possessed this 'town' girl. " (kuna nini mwanangu?)what's wrong my child? " my father asked in Swahili? "(yuataka kunipaka makaa") she wants to apply charcoal on me" The kind lady was really dark in complexion and my sister thought it was soot that was causing her skin to look that dark. In embarrassment my dad apologized to this lady who was standing there mouth wide open...

Years later my siblings were all living in the city my parents had long sold the tea farm and bought a coffee farm in different part of the central region. I was now the village girl going to the big city for my first time. I was traveling in a public vehicle with my mother. I fell asleep for the better part of the journey from the village, I woke up to many vehicles and people. We were very close to the city. I asked ' (mum tuko Nairobi?) Mum are we in Nairobi? She responded ('bado tumekaribia.') 'Not yet but we are close'.

I knew in the city people spoke in English so quickly I said.' So we are in Africa then we go to Nairobi. True mum? ' The lady sitting next to mum burst out in laughter .. In my defense I was only eight years old and my first time in the city.

My friend was also born in the village so she tells me of her first visit to Mombasa. It was an entourage of kids who had just completed class eight. On arrival they were picked from the bus park by a local who was guiding them during their stay. This kids were in amazement of the coastal town everything was so new to them. When they got to the hotel. Their guide stopped to talk to someone. My friend had been told to be very weary during her visit so she leaned closer to listen the conversation.. ("Nina kibarua kweli! Hawa ni watoto wa bara wote. Hawajafika hapa tena lazima tuwashughulikie!") "I have a lot of work! This kids are not from coast. it's their first time here so we must take care of them." My friend started to run crying she understood that statement to mean "this are war kids so we must deal with them!" In her mother tongue bara means war/fight ..