#MyDressMyChoice? Sorry the categorical and consequential moralist in me begs to differ.

I beg to digress a bit, let me bring to the fore the story of Kanyari, from what I gathered from Jicho Pevu expose (Makri ya Injili- btw how does Moha ever come up with such titles, they make Kiswahili sound like Greek, if this is Kiswahili then I must say I got a raw deal from my Kiswahili teacher and syllabus for that matter:-P) Anyways back to Kanyari, now this Lady who apparently is in pain walks up to the alter to be prayed for by Pastor Kanyari, she says she hasn't been able to get proper medication regarding her excruciatingly painful breasts, naively she believes that pastor will be able to pray for her to alleviate her suffering, but lo and behold, the good pastor caresses her breast -forgive me but I think I saw a hard on - (from my approximation, she must have been in her late 40s or early 50s, the pastor in question should be in his mid 30s or late 30s not sure ) and goes ahead to order her to show her breast to the congregation casually saying that “kwani nani hajaona matiti”. In the whole saga, this is the part that got to me the most, I imagined that lady being my mother, I felt her desperation in losing her dignity by allowing the congregation to see her breast, the congregants among-st whom were young enough to be her kids, but she did this hoping that the man of God will help in her healing, that the embarrassment was a small price to pay for her healing, the healing that never was!

There is something almost sacred about women’s body, something that ought to be venerated, loved, cherished and feared at the same time. In 1992, Wangari Maathai led a group of women that occupied “Freedom Corner” in Nairobi’s Uhuru Park, demanding the release of political prisoners arrested and detained by the Moi regime. The government sent armed police to evict the women, who stripped naked in protest and defiance. Wangari Maathai was beaten unconscious and hospitalized, but the women of Freedom Corner eventually won.

Kenyan women have been laying their bodies on the line for years. A group of women stripping naked in public is one of our most potent political practices. Women’s bodies work as a potential and latent public space in Kenyan modernity because they usually appear in public only under cover: a frightening secret weapon everyone knows about. In many African communities, there is no stronger curse or taboo upon men than seeing “the mothers naked.” There is no stronger way for women acting together to register political dissent. Deployed in this way, women’s bodies have the power to make (something) public, to create “a public” around this action, and thus to produce both public-ness and publicity from the ground of their own corporeal materiality.

Not only has women used their bodies to gain political mileage in an otherwise impasses situations, we have heard some hollow threats of “I will strip if this and that happens not”- Ester Murugi comes to mind regarding Uhuru Kenyatta’s ICC case, am still waiting for her to make good her threats.

Why this long narrative about women’s body, you may ask. Well only after reading this will you understand where I am coming from and why I would literally strangle Kanyari with my bare hands, because he stripped that lady, that lady who could as well pass as my mother, that lady whose only crime was excruciating pain her dignity.

Before I continue any further, let me categorically state that I DO NOT condone any stripping whatsoever of any being, especially a woman who has brought forth another being in this world, in the same breath let me also categorically say that I DO NOT subscribe to #Mydressmychoice agenda being pushed. To argue my case I will borrow heavily from Emmanuel Kant- a German philosopher best known for his groundwork for the metaphysics of morals publication. Kant says that we are rational beings capable of reason, autonomous beings capable of choosing freely (able to choose how we dress and how we act should anyone dress in a manner that we are not comfortable with), he says that human beings have a categorical duty to RESPECT the dignity of persons and not to use people as means merely even for good ends.

To act autonomously, Kant continues, is to act according to a law one gives him/herself, the reason that leads us to the law we give ourselves as autonomous beings is the reason that we share as human beings, it is not idiosyncratic, the reason we need to respect the dignity of persons is that we are all rational beings, we all have the capacity for reason and it’s the exercise of that capacity for reason which exists undifferentiated in all of us that makes us worthy of dignity and since it’s the same capacity for reason unqualified by particular autobiographies or lifestyles or circumstances, it’s the same universal capacity for reason that delivers moral law, thus to act autonomously is to act according to a law we give ourselves exercising our reason that is the reason we share with everyone as rational beings not the particular reason we have given our upbringing , values or interests, it’s pure practical reason which legislates our priori regardless of any particular contingent or empirical law .

Therefore Kant emphasizes the need to uphold human dignity regardless of the circumstances, as a firm believer of categorical moral reasoning, Kant urges us to do the right thing for the right reason that the motive of duty and no any other motive should be the only force propelling us into undertaking something.

As a follower of consequential type of reasoning, I believe in analyzing the consequences of my actions, for every action there is an equal reaction and based on the consequences of my actions including my mode of dressing I can deduce that as much as I would have a preference on how to dress, my environment to a greater extent dictates how I carry out myself, how I dress and sometimes even what I say.

Decency is key to earning respect, decency is key on how people perceive you and therefore my dressing choice is not only dictated by the environment I am in, but also by the message I want to pass and this cuts across to both males and females. On Jamhiri day celebrations, Bahati of Barua hit song wrote and I quote:

"The past days I have received texts and in-boxes from my fans & family about my #SAGGING_HABITS which today has been a talk on social media after my Mashujaa celebration performance at Nyayo stadium. I know God has blessed me with some of you who are mature, ahead of me by age and I really can't ignore this. I will accept that am 20yrs old & still growing but I thank you for every correction for it makes me more mature and responsible today than yesterday.

Am officially writing this to say #BIG_THANK_YOU for every correction and asking you as my family to #FORGIVE_ME_FOR_I'AM_SORRY and willing to change. I may not be perfect tomorrow but am sure I'll try my best to be a better man than today"

This was after fans took issues with how he was dressed. It takes courage to say you are sorry and for this I respect Bahati for he did not look at his popularity or success and chanted #mydressmychoice but he had the humility to say, I erred and I promise to improve. Ruth Matete did the same and therefore unlike the woman who was stripped off her clothes and dignity (which was very uncalled for and unfortunate), these are individuals who were also stripped naked on social media but had the audacity to say look, am only human but I promise to do better.

My sister went to her 7 year old girl’s parents meeting, great legs and body she has and so she decided to flaunt them a bit in a mini skirt that rose well past her thighs when she sat, after the meeting, her daughter called her a side and said “ Mommy, usiwahi kuja kwa shule yetu kama umevaa hivyo tena, sitaki watoto wengine wanichekelee” and the mum was, ohh swiry, didn't you like my skirt, and she was like, not exactly I’d prefer something not as short and tight when you come to our parents’ day...see that's a priori knowledge that even kids posses!

I believe even in our various work places employers have somewhat dictated what’s acceptable in a working environment, for starters I know equity bank is a no trouser zone for ladies, the only place where #mydressmychoice slogan would actually fit would be in one’s bedroom but even then that would only be applicable if one is single, I do know our menfolk cherishes not t-shirts known as walking billboards and therefore as much as we would want to be one and in solidarity with our sisters whose dignities was stripped, we shouldn't do it under the burner of #mydressmychoice we should do it under the burner of respect for all and sundry bearing in mind that respect starts with self and that environment and sometimes occasions have their own specific set of demands that even known libertarians are yet to conclusively argue.

.....................................When in Rome, do as Romans do.......................................

  

The suffering, the bath, the dream….

It’s 37,000 feet above sea level, sayeth Captain Mwaniki. We are cruising the stratosphere level but I keep wondering what could happen had we to cruise further to the mesosphere past ozone layer and into the ionosphere…

Am seated next to a Chinese lady, either she is not friendly or she doesn’t think much of me not that I care after all we are aboard Kenya Airways- The pride of Africa J

A lot of things cross my mind though; from my private life, to my dreams, to my role in this world to the ongoing war in Gaza, Lamu and the glaring inequality in the world.

I take any form of human suffering very personal, cuts me so deep, makes me feel helpless and above all motivates me to be able to realize my dreams, be that person        I  have always wanted to be and I know I will be that person, just a matter of time.

……

The water felt so good, took her mind away she even forgot how long she had been soaking in it, maybe an hour, 2 maybe…. Damn could have been 3 hours and counting, she just stood there listening to the sound of the shower, getting to know her body deeply and intimately, ohh this part made the trip worth it, took all her worries away, she always looked forward to the long, warm hot bath it was the climax of her day but deep down her conscience nagged. (Earlier on her way to L. Malawi excursion, she had spotted a young woman fetching water from the river, to say the least the water was not even fit to use for laundry…) As the water caressed her curvaceous chocolate body her mind wondered… Was that lady going to drink that water, probably use it for cooking, how many kilometres had she covered to reach that river? Was she happy? Did she deserve that life? Was she any better than her? Why was her life much easier than hers? Was it luck or education that created the divide….? Had she thanked God that morning for the bearable life she had, for the water she wasting soaking herself yet others covered thousands of kilometres just to obtain that scarce commodity? Why wasn’t life easy for everyone? Why was there too much suffering in the world?

These thoughts brought her back to reality, she stepped out of the bathroom and into her bed wondering why the divide was so pronounced….

…..

“Ladies and gentlemen” she could hear Captain Mwaniki’s voice trailing in the background, they had entered Kenya’s airspace and the plane was preparing for landing, she slowly folded her laptop, paused Christina Aguilera’s pleading “say something” ballad as much as she hoped for something positive to be said to give her hope in humanity, to clear life’s paradox of the haves and have nots… but with the touchdown her trail of thinking faded only her dreams reminded her of a better tomorrow, “someday my dreams will come true, and that day will come soon…”

Is Nairobi your final destination ma’am?....

Let the kids be: it’s the least we can give them

Being a kid is so interesting, you know, kids are supposed to be the free spirits, the carefree souls, the worry free beings, their world typically should consist of throwing tantrums, playing, crying, sleeping and if old enough studying- which ought to be a leisure in itself. But am afraid things are slowly changing, for the worse I must add. Majority of kids nowadays, barely into their fifth birthday know the pain of lacking; lacking a good life, lacking a good environment in which to grow, they are already aware of the faults and crimes committed in their society, their innocence is already in question.  Long ago leaning was meant to be fun for kids, not any more- what with tuition at just a kindergarten level? Instead of kids thinking about their favorite games, they are thinking about books, about what to eat should they go back home, they are thinking about the disharmony they witness their parents go through, they have to worry about the ills of their society- what happened to being kids? Why can’t we just let them be? 

Play forms a very integral part of a child’s development: 

A child who has been allowed to develop play resources receives many enduring advantages. First, she develops a universal learning skill. Second, play maximizes her potential by developing her creativity and imagination. Third, her relationships with the world and others are based on loving-kindness. Fourth, play promotes joy, which is essential for self-esteem and health. Fifth, her learning process is self-sustained based as it is on her own natural love of learning and playful engagement with life. Sixth, play creates a basic trust in the world.   (Source: http://www.originalplay.com/develop.htm)

 

But prey I ask, how can a child play when she/he barely have a place to sleep? When he/she doesn’t have food in her precious lil tummy? When she\he hardly knows what it means to be happy?

Just for the record, it wouldn’t bother me as much if a kid walked with tattered clothes, or bare feet, no it wouldn’t, but it rips my heart a part when at just such a tender age they already know the pain of hunger, the pain of being unwanted, the pain of having to struggle, to hustle in order to get something to eat. 

There is this particular kid who reminds me every day how cruel the society has become, how his innocence have been taken away from him and forced to grow up well ahead of his age, every day on my way to work, I see this kid- I guess he hasn’t celebrated his 5^th birthday just yet, or utmost he is 5.  Almost 9 into the night (everyday), he is always busy cleaning up the place his mum and him were selling the groceries, he does that so diligently that he makes me feel guilty of untidying my environment, but I wonder what time he gets to sleep, what time he plays, what time he eats and if he ever have a sound sleep? I wonder!  At such a tender age, he knows the pain of hustling, the value of money , he has been forced to grow up, to fend for himself….how can such a kid have  unshakable self-esteem when he grows up? How can he ever trust the world? How can he develop his/her creativity and imagination when he barely have time to engage the world and fellow kids on the playground?

30^th of September was another dark moment in Kenya’s history, a grenade was hurled at innocent children attending a church service by the Alshabab militia groups, one boy who had just celebrated his 9^th birthday lost his precious life, in Tana Delta, kids were among the targeted group, quite a number lost their lives………and I ask, with lots of pain in my heart, since when did it become so easy to kill a child? Why would anyone, however hardcore you are, target an innocent child? What satisfaction do you get from harming a kid who barely understands your motive?  Why would you want to get sexual satisfaction from a months' old baby? How twisted is your brain? Why would you want to molest an innocent child? 

We are failing as a society and as humanity if we can’t shield them from the cruelty that exists in the world, children are the true reflection of the society, you bring up a rogue child, you create unsecure society, you bring up a morally upright kid, you eliminate the ‘ campus divas for rich men’ .

                                             Play your part; it’s your call as well.

 

My Little One, these are my thoughts for you.

I know Abonyo will feature in your name, it’s a name that I hold so dear and so close to my heart, your grandma’s name, my mum’s name: maybe I should first tell you a bit of her story and why that name befits you.

                                                  ……………………..

I know they will teach you about modernity, technology and stuff; the iPads, the iPods, the iPhones which most likely I will have ipaid from my ibanks’ savings, but quite predictably they will not teach you about our culture and the way your people use to live but lemme give you a brief history my dear one, the roots of yours truly:

 Long time ago in a place called Nango in Sakwa  Bondo  when wild animals- the lions, gazelles, antelopes, pythons etc - roamed freally  thanks to the heavy , impenetrable dense thicket that existed before uncontrolled human encroachment ,lived a hardworking, ambitious and industrious young man called Gumba who fell in love with and married  a tall, beautiful, chocolate and curvy young woman whom they fondly referred to as A luso (Lucy)Osumo Nyokaka. They were later to be blessed with 2 sons: Michael and Lucas (Oguk Rakula)-whom I was named after, he passed on the night I was born- and 2 daughters: Ademba and Abonyo (NyaGumba, Nyawuon Sawega) -your grandma. Their dad passed on when they were still very young and therefore all the responsibility of taking care of the young Gumba family fell squarely on Aluso’s shoulders. The first born; my sweet, brutally honest and straight forward uncle- Michael (Mikael) would later assume the ‘father figure’ role, since Lucy was still a young woman who still needed the warmth and protection of a man by her side and in tandem with our ‘outlived’ culture, she had to be ‘inherited’- get another husband , mostly an already married man to re-marry her while still staying at her late husband’s home to help her bring up her kids, they were later also blessed with two other sons- Ben and Julius.

After the demise of their dad, life was never the same at Ka’Gumba’s homestead, life took a turn for the worse and therefore sacrifices had to be made to enable them soldier on, Abonyo (Nya Gumba, Nyathi Osumo Nyokaka- as we fondly called her) was a bright, intelligent, introverted and a soft spoken kid, but due to lack of fees, she was unable to continue with her education and therefore she dropped out in class 6- a very big leap by then education standards (when education was education!!!!)

At a meager age of 16, she would later meet (at a dancing party) a dark, 6’4 middle aged tall man whom she later married and bored him 9 children, 4 boys and 5 girls, yours truly closing the chapter –last born.

                                   ………………………………

I was not particularly close to mum but I knew without a flinch of a doubt that she loved us unconditionally, the troubles I saw her go through, the sacrifices I saw her make and the heartaches she had to endure proved how deeply she loved and cherished us and even more she had a close knit with her family, she loved her siblings more than she even loved herself, she worried to death about them and anything that affected them, affected her even deeply. 

As you already know, your grandma was an introvert who rarely spoke about her feelings, troubles and the like, a devout catholic, submissive wife, annoyingly generous, lovable and laser sharp woman, she hated controversy like a plague and she would never raise her voice not even to a child, a strict disciplinarian mostly feared for her ‘Ngoto’ blows, she was 5’6 just my height-  one of the few things that I took from her- chocolate in complexion, an hour glass figure, long flowing black hair, a melodious voice, a to die for legs and a confessed lover of traditional dishes. She was extremely hardworking and patient- a virtue which I must confess I don’t poses , a hopeful individual even in the midst of all odds, she gave us the best foundation in the world- the fear and knowledge of God-and I hope I will do the same to you honey-she instilled in us the value of education, most villagers referred to her as ‘japuonj’- teacher -since even with the enormous responsibilities that she had, she would still spare some time, normally during mid-day and teach village kids ( the current diluted kindergarten education), she taught us how to be accommodative, never to compare ourselves to others and always to thank God for whatever befell us-good or bad. 

Now you see my beloved, I guess 10 years into your grandparents’ marriage, after they had accumulated some wealth as a young family thanks to the hard work input by both parties, your grandpa spotted another beautiful, well-endowed light skinned young woman whom he later went ahead and married, now let it be known that our culture freely encouraged this and the number of women you had was directly proportional to your wealth and standing in the society. But my dad- J.J (John Jeconia) as we fondly called him (and those moments were extremely few) re-married for completely different reasons. Your grandpa as I knew him, never conformed to the society ways of doing things, at least not all of them, he trusted his instincts more and had a unique way of approaching issues, he was a relatively tall man standing 6’4, very dark, very cautious in his dealings and a very cruel man- I guess this trait has rubbed a bit on me, he wasn’t particularly religious but valued education above all things, one thing my dad never waited for you to ask him was school fees, he cleared all the arrears well in advance, but boy ohh boy, misbehave in school and you will curse your conception night. I particularly don’t remember him for a lot of things though coz mostly he was in the city and we were upcountry, our interaction was therefore limited to the few times he traveled home and even then we had to split that time between the two families that he now had and sadly he gave high priority to his second family up until when his last days were nearing, when he realized where unconditional love emanated from would he then come back to be humanly taken care of.

Due to the success that your grandma had brought about in terms of her passionate engagement in the shamba, she planted all kinds of crops, tilled the land even in the darkness of the night when only the moon shone, planted all kinds of vegetables and as if God was particularly pleased with her hard work, everything did extremely well, we would have full granaries after every harvest time, our shambas were full of all kinds of foods regardless of the seasons and of course we had a huge herd of cattle, kraal full of goats and sheep. Not ruling out the input your grandpa put and given the fact that during this time he was still finding his bearing in the society, it was largely agreed that were it not for your grandma’s resilience, and industrious nature all these could have been a mere dream.

Since he had found  a particularly hardworking  young woman he decided to explore other avenues to bring in more income into their then young family , let it be known that your grandpa was one of the laziest people I know when it came to doing the shamba work, this is one area where he particularly scored the least and I think driven by this he decided to seek white Collar jobs in the city and being an O level  finalist finding a job was never going to be a difficult endeavor, he got a position with the ministry of labor before being later moved to NSSF when it acquired the parastatal status, he would later work there till his retirement period in the late ‘90s.

 ‘Many a man owes his success to his first wife and his second wife to his successes’ so they say, due to the apparent wealth that the Obor’s family was enjoying, most competitive neighbors were not particularly pleased by this, they plotted their downfall to no avail, and my treasured one, them days, ‘African chemistry’ was real but your grandma consecrated her homestead to the blood of the Lamb and this was her perpetual guard , protector and defender and therefore these ‘African Chemistry’ powers were rendered completely useless. In their attempt to bring them down they forged a plan to convince your grandpa to take in another woman whom they had rightly identified, even before the agreement had been reached, the young woman who apparently had a different agenda as coached by your grandparent’s detractors was already home,  you guessed right  to-her co-wife’s’ house, your grandma’s abode. 

Being a gentleman demanded that dad treated the new visitor with utmost decorum and therefore sending her back home was just out of the equation, they implored upon him just to take her in, and take her in he did and that marked the first chapter of your grandparent’s life and ushered in a turbulent life that would later divide the Ko’Obor’s family down in the middle.

As I had indicated above, given your grandma’s introvert nature, she never uttered a word, never protested, she took her in with open arms, treated her as part of the family and marveled at the thought of a new helper, but little did she know, until…..until much later when damage had been done. And so officially your grandpa became a polygamous man with a seriously biased approach which I must tell you dear one, made me loath him so much sometimes

Your grandpa passed on barely 4 years after his retirement and your grandma succumbed to Cardiac arrest 4 years later after his demise on one chilly morning of October the 30th where she breathed her last at Nyanza General Hospital, I vividly remember her last words “Please don’t go” imploring me not to leave her alone, not to go home but I went only to find her gone the next morning, but I gave her my Scapular just before I left and recited for her the ‘Three beautiful prayers for the dying’ and that gives me the peace of knowing that of all places she could be right now, she is nowhere near hell and I know she is watching over me and over you too honey- she is watching over us!

                                          ……………………………………

You see my dear one, many a time I have imagined us playing together, holding you in my arms, telling you stories, teaching you how to pray, especially the Holy Rosary and how to adore Jesus in the Eucharist, on several occasions I have imagined your little tender hands, sweet legs and beautiful body, hmmm, interestingly I have even imagined myself caning your little buttocks, to discipline you (call it the African in me)……I have imagined these and much more. I have always wanted you to be a girl, so that I name you after your sweet and beautiful grandma, to cherish you just the way I cherished her, so that we become the sweetest and greatest of friends, I want you to become my BFF and if you allow me, I will also become your BFF :)

 

I don’t know your daddy yet swiry, no I don’t ,but I don’t want to bring you up alone, I want to give you the warmth and security and protection of a family, I want you to have unbreakable bond with your daddy, you to make us all proud. I would want your dad to share in the most things that I hold dear, I would particularly prefer him to be light skinned so that you come close to your grandma now that yours truly took after her dad- complexion wise- but most importantly I want your dad to be the perfect person on the inside. Very respectful, God loving- a Catholic would be ideal for me, good education; you see your mommy has a thing for deep intellectuals, those with impeccable English and interestingly those who possess an hybrid of civilization and our cultural values so that we give you both of those worlds.

Now treasured one, am not sure I will pamper you but don’t you ever misconstrue this to mean that I don’t love you, I will love you unconditionally, try to be the best mommy in the world, I will let you do as you wish only chipping in to give my ideas and thoughts but I will not decide for you, I will give you the freedom of choice mine will be to be there for you, and trust me my angel, I will always be there for you.

I would want us to discuss virtually anything, from the nice dress you saw at the exhibitions, to this boy whom you have a crush on, to how badly you are heartbroken, I want you to be there to offer me checks and balances, be there for me when my world is crumbling down, I want you to be able to see through my smiles and discern if am dying from the inside, be the peacemaker between your daddy and myself if things go wrong as I am a live to the fact that they sometimes will go awfully wrong.

My baby, apparently your mommy has a fear for labor pains, don’t ask why as she has never been there but she fears it like a plague, but for you I will overcome this deafening fear, I want to push you swiry, I never will go for a C-section for you unless the doctors insist, I want to feel the maximum pain when bringing you to this world hoping that that pain will translate to unbreakable bond between us, I will breast feed you even for a year if I must, I will treat you like the apple of my eye, like the air that I breath.

I don’t know if am being mean, maybe I will discuss this with your daddy, I don’t want you to have a brother or another sister, I just want us to be the three of us, this is partly shaped by my fear for labor pains but also by my drive to give you the best of myself unreservedly, but am fairly flexible on this. I want you to reach the highest heights that you can academically, do that which gives you satisfaction and be a blessing to the whole world at large.

My dear one, regardless of what age you will attain in life, you will always remain my baby, my little one, my treasured one. No one wants it to happen, but should anything happen to me that renders me unable to tell you all these, just know that this’ how I would have wished for us to grow up.