We urgently need to figure out what we can do to change things in OlKalou, giving “our children” a fighting chance. We need to reach back and invest back home to improve the local economy, creating more opportunities for our children. Joblessness breeds helplessness which breeds desperation. A desperate person makes desperate decisions, which are often regrettable and can be life altering. If we leave the situation in OlKalou as it is, it will only get worse. Even an upstanding young man with a college education can become desperate and turn to a life of crime.
OlKalou being home, you always end up going there to visit your parents and the extended family, no matter where else you own a home. Most second generation Nyandaruans have also built houses on the portions of land they inherited from their Pioneer Parents, turning the farm into a tranquil paradise where they bring their families and city friends for weekends and public holidays. Your palatial mansion stands prominently in this rural neighborhood, everybody stops to admire it every time they are on your rural “street”, they just can’t help it. Your mansion is adorned with expensive modern furnishings and household appliances your rural family is intimidated to touch, with all the unfamiliar knobs, flashing lights and constant beeps and chimes they are not familiar with. These are modern conveniences you are used to in your city home and you installed the same here to keep your wife and children’s lives comfortable whether they are in the city or visiting their gichagi home. It makes absolute sense to you and your family. But to your siblings and their families in OlKalou, they marvel at how much you have invested in that majestic looking home that remains unused for the better part of the year.
Picture this for a moment: It is Christmas time and OlKalou is the ideal destination for relaxation while visiting with your family back home. You are well aware how blessed you are and plan to extend some Christmas cheer to your loved ones and some of the neighbors you grew up with. You slaughter a few goats, stock up on sodas, bottled water, alcohol of every kind, with a few bottles of hard liquor from AFCO. Your wife contracts a local caterer who whips up an impressive feast to keep your guests well fed. Your parents, your siblings and their spouses are your obvious guests. All your nephews and nieces are invited too and they bring some of their friends, mainly to show off their wealthy uncle. You invite your parents’ close friends who bring along their grown jobless grandchildren. You invite former classmates from primary school days and they bring their jobless children as well, hoping they can talk to you about job opportunities in the city or in the company where you work. Your home is a beehive of activity, one might be tempted to think you are holding a political rally. There is excitement everywhere, and it makes your heart swell with joy and pride.
Your mother’s best friend asks you loudly “kai Waitherero atanooka thigukuu kana ndari auma ruraya?” translation “didn’t Waitherero come for Christmas or she is still abroad?” The woman is asking about your oldest daughter who is an Assistant Bank Manager in Nairobi after completing her studies abroad. She did not come to OlKalou with you because she flew to Mombasa with her boyfriend for Christmas instead. You explain that to your mother’s friend while everybody is paying close attention because they are curious about your children whom they hardly know. Your daughter Waitherero is the same age as most of the young people who are eating with you today, some in their late twenties and still jobless. That fact does not escape your mind even for a second, the whole time you are hosting this gathering.
As you sit with the elders under a gazebo enjoying nyama choma and drinks, you see one of the young men being ushered into the house by your gracious wife to use the bathroom. A level of unease creeps into your mind. You understand the unfortunate circumstances of these young people’s lives, and you do not wish to be suspicious of any of them. But the thought of them getting deep into your house, eyeballing everything you own, most of which are unfamiliar to them, makes you very uncomfortable. This young man will walk through your living room, coming face to face with the imposing wall to wall flat screen TV staring down at him with its crisp clear lifelike images that he cannot ignore. He will pass some beautiful furniture that looks both comfortable and elegant. Straight on he can see an open style kitchen with a huge gas / electric cooker, microwave, double door refrigerator, food processor, toaster and other modern gadgets he cannot identify. In a narrow laundry room next to the kitchen, he can see a clothes washer and a dryer. As he approaches the bathroom, he can see a huge family room further down the hall that doubles as a game room. There is another wall to wall TV mounted on the wall, various game consoles for your teenage children filling a huge table, a pool table on one end and more beautiful furniture in front of a fireplace where your family relaxes before going to bed. Your OlKalou home rivals many five star hotels. You are very aware of that fact, as you are also well aware of your guests humble circumstances. The visiting adults are very proud of your success and wish you well but the youth are left wondering where their lives are headed. They have been jobless for years with no prospects in sight despite holding degrees and diplomas from reputable government institutions. They are grateful for your invitation and all they shared with your family, but after the merry making, they return to their real lives which can be described in one word: Miserable.
You are very proud of the opportunity you got to host this deserving group of families that clearly needed a break, but the stark contrast between your life and theirs is too extreme to ignore. On that visit alone, you had a lot of witnesses to your affluent living right there in OlKalou where their lives are anything but.
As you load up your shiny, latest model SUV to go back to Nairobi in the New Year, security for this second home of yours is front and center in your mind. You are aware the young people who visited your home, will take great pride in telling their peers the wonders they saw in that mansion they had always wondered about, exposing your home to more curious minds. Why does that thought make you nervous? Because the OlKalou we grew up in, in the 1970s and 80s, was the safest society to live in, raise children and own property. But not the OlKalou of today. There are just too many security problems, not just in the towns but deep into the rural neighborhoods, it should be very concerning to everybody. Why? We are supposed to feel safe and comfortable coming HOME. We should be comfortable furnishing our rural homes without worrying they will be broken into during our long absence. We should be comfortable walking outside our homes in the evening without worrying of thugs lurking in the shadows. We should not be afraid to park a car outside our homes for fear of finding it on its belly after all the four tyres are stolen during the night.
The above sounds like a bad joke or some stories from some bad neighborhoods in Nairobi. Apparently not. These are concerns voiced from our beloved home neighborhoods. What went wrong? You ask yourself. I am not one to give excuses for bad behavior; but, we have too many desperate young people, trapped in a stagnant economy with zero prospects in sight. Like mentioned above, desperation sometimes pushes people over the edge, causing them to do desperate things. All those wonderful young people you hosted for Christmas had dreams just like your children, but theirs have remained unfulfilled as they watch their youthful years pass them by with nothing to show for it. That is why we must find ways to harness this youthful energy and utilize it in constructive ventures that will keep our young people occupied and gainfully employed, lifting our local economy, while restoring the dignity of our young population. When everybody is busy ‘building’ something, especially their lives, that is the most powerful weapon of all for eliminating crime from any society for good. We need that in OlKalou now.
East or West Home is best. We all own land in OlKalou gifted to us by our Pioneer Parents, making OlKalou our real home. Wherever you live in the big cities, when Easter, Christmas and other holidays rolls around and everybody heads to their rural homes leaving the cities virtual ghost towns, OlKalou is your Gichagi, Shau, Upcountry or whatever name you may want to call it. No matter how sophisticated your children’s lives are, you want to give them a sense of belonging, some roots, just like you did growing up, otherwise you will be a “successful failure”.
The cities we live in belong to everybody from every tribe and nation, but your Gichagi is HOME. You are familiar with its sounds, smells, rhythm and feel. That is why we have to do everything in our power to make OlKalou the safe, prosperous and hopeful place our Pioneer Parents meant it to be.
