Just like us growing up, my children may not get it now, but at some point in their lives when they are ready, they may get to their memory banks and retrieve a nugget of wisdom that may save their day. I know it is the hardest thing to talk to this DotCom generation who thinks they know better than us. They have the internet to consult for “anything” they need. They can google it or read it on Wikipedia. They have social media to interact and follow their “heroes” and “idols” whom they feel closer to and want to emulate.
This makes it very hard for none heroes like myself and other ordinary parents to get their message across. But I still try. I know I cannot sit my children down for two hours for a Kamukunji like my father did. That is why I write. There is power in the written word because it is permanent. For whatever event in my children’s lives, I fire up my computer and type a “few” lines for them. My few lines end up becoming a few pages, but I have no apologies to make. Had my father written or typed the contents of his Kamukunjis over the course of our childhood, today, we would be owning volumes and series of books dating back to the 1970s. I wish such books existed, I would be reading them constantly.
Today, for every milestone in my children’s lives, I take such opportunities to tell them a “few” words drawn from my life experiences and infused with my fathers’ words of wisdom. For this generation that has a love affair with computers and other electronic gadgets, I figured that is where I can meet them for my Kamukunjis. I send my writings into their computers or whatever platforms they access regularly and in that way, I know my “few” words will get read. They may not read because they are interested in what “the old woman” has to say, but they may read out of curiosity, or to stop me from asking if they read. Either way, they hopefully get to feel my heartbeat and my fathers’ too.
Most of my nephews and nieces have suffered the same fate as my children. Whenever they invite me for an event, obviously expecting a gift from their Auntie, I never disappoint. I wrap up or envelop my gift like every good Auntie, but I also accompany it with a “few” pages. Why? I know the weight of my fathers’ words of wisdom and I want the next generation to carry them into their future.
Our children may not be the most receptive of our past experiences or our parents gallant fight for the independence of our country, but that does not exonerate us from the responsibility of keeping them connected to their roots. We cannot let the history of our country, the culture of our people and the rich heritage of our past die off just because the DotCom generation does not seem interested. We have to find a way. Any way we can. I do mine by writing.
When I started out writing this document, I meant to write a few pages to reminisce about my childhood in Nyandarua, but the document took a life of its own. My theory is that if one reader gets inspired, encouraged, challenged or even entertained by my writing, then my work is done. Which takes me back to the quote: “The wisdom acquired with the passage of time is a useless gift unless you share it”. Gikuyu has a similar version of this: “Ki ngoro gitihotanaga” translation: “whatever is in your heart cannot win a case for you” meaning, whatever you are holding, let it out, share it and it may help decide a case.
Lets share what we have, it may illuminate somebody’s life when you least expect it. It may connect the DotCom generation with our Pioneer Parents past. We are that link. Lets not break it. It will be irresponsible to do that and we will have let down both our Pioneer Parents and the future generations.
