TOTO’S STORY                           

                                                              

She wouldn’t have died, had you not accepted the bottle of wine. It was a clogging on one of her arteries which made it difficult for blood to flow into the brain.

Why did you even accept to go out? I thought you never liked the guy. Last I checked you described his dress code as one that resembled a retired, homeless Kenyan policeman who never planned for any malipo ya uzeeni  Program, rugged and uncertain were your top up words!  His voice you said it startled your ears and made this penguin kind of a sound which made you want to sew his lips using your earring as a needle and your necklace as a thread.  “It’s a good thing this guy has finally stopped stalking you,” I recall telling you in the kitchen. You looked happy then, and you were breathing so easy, I cannot believe you went back to him.

No! No Meg don’t say it’s because of the money, I pay you well enough. In fact for a house help you are way classy. I allow you to go out on your off days. I drive weird hours with my daughter, sleeping at the back of the car to come and rescue you from your bad choices of dates. The last Thursday when I went to visit Mjomba (uncle) up country, did you invite this man to my house? I took Toto with me, her soul rest in peace so who knows what you did. You seem to be spending a lot of time on your internet how was I to know that you have learnt how to turn the CCTV camera off.  When did you start drinking champagne anyway? This man, is he the one who showed you the trend?

Meg have you forgotten how many people out there wish they worked for me? I treat you like family. I feed you, clothe you, I stopped even complaining about you preparing dinner with bare hands, I bought the gloves for you to keep your nail polish. I did not even scold you the day you used baby formula to prepare tea, well you explained how your previous boss used to buy powdered milk and you thought I do the same. “Not really, I love fresh milk, and baby formula is not for making tea, it is strictly for Toto.” I said.  

I think I should mention the Chicken incident? It happened on Christmas day, you threw a whole 2 kilograms of chicken in the bin and swore to me that it was rotten, you described it as soft and had a funny touch into it when you tried to rinse it before cooking, “ ma’ which chicken does not even have bones? You should go back and try ask the supermarket to refund you your money, their chicken are bad.” You grumbled.
 I smiled, partially pissed, but knowing the importance of knowledge to a human being, I offered again to explain to you that it is called a boneless chicken, and I bought it purposely for Toto to enjoy her first white meat. “ooh kumbe,”(ooh really)you dipped your callused hands in the bin traced the chicken, by the time I was turning to send you back to the supermarket to go get another one, you were already rinsing the chicken again with your apron begrimed. Disgusted, I told you to stop. “Throw it back into the trash bin,” I ordered you. You obeyed and went to the supermarket to get another one. Still you brought one that had bones.

 By the way, I did not fire you the day you lied to me that your aunt had an accident. You even took a loan of 20,000 shillings to go and assist with the bills. Do you remember me sympathising with you and telling you not to pay me back, my words were and I quote “sometimes we stay with people for long, until we can’t help but call them family.” You cried that day only for me to find out a week later through the accidental text message that came to my Phone meant for cousin Nish that you had gone to do a tubal ligation downtown. The quack Gynecologist, did he or she use laparoscopy or mini-lap method? Just so you know, these are safe methods one can use for birth control.  You knew none of this, your wicked first cousin is the one that decided to end your motherhood at the age of 28 yet you have never even given birth, you received wrong advice so leave with it! I had to incur your bills at the Aga Khan Hospital for them to check if you were okay. Who wants to wake up and find her house help died while sleeping?  I couldn’t take chances. Thank God you recovered.

Meg, do you still want me to talk about my late Toto? How you stopped caring about her diet and her hygiene. There was this one time i came home, Toto was playing with the gas knobs, she had spilled her uji all over the floor, her petite lips were covered with grains of sugar and salt, she smiled at me and ran to embrace me shouting the word mama. My affection for her was evident, i lifted her up, kissed her passionately and whispered “where is aunty?” she pointed towards your room and sunk her cute chocolate face with kinky hair on my right shoulder, her delicate hands tried to make a curve around my neck. “Mbona unalala na Toto anacheza na gas knobs jikoni?”(why are you sleeping and the baby is playing with the gas knobs in the kitchen? I asked, you jumped out of your bed and beneath your blue cotton dress came the toy . I didn’t want to imagine how many times you have been doing this.  I just told you to style up and get a real man to date. Later that evening you came to me humbled and apologised, saying the toy belonged to Nish, and she showed you how to use it. I now confirmed my fear of the likeliness of your cousin being a whore.

This gentleman, the one that brought you the sparkling wine with a cork, how comes you never mentioned you met him through Nish? Bad choices again. Nothing good comes out of this cousin you talk of.  Yes I know she was born in the city and you in the village, who said you are not “smart” if you don’t know about the city? Every Sunday we went to the Baptist Church across the town and I used to tell you the names of the streets, the shops and the malls. I took you and toto to TRM for pizza. You hated it, you said that it tasted yuck!  the only thing you could have was a soda, when we came home you prepared your own rice. I laughed at you for not knowing the good things and you laughed back saying we town people eat weird stuff. Toto did not even know what we were laughing about but she also joined in. It was the last evening for me to ever see my daughter smiling.

I left you with her on Monday, i went to Parklands to order a birthday cake, then later to my office in Westlands. You went to meet up with your so called man leaving Toto alone in the house. You came back a few minutes before me.

 Believe me Meg, i thought it was the “pop” sound that gave her a heart attack, i heard it myself when i was parking my car. No, it wasn’t!! That was you screaming? I didn’t even lock the door, i dropped my handbag on the ground as i struggled to remove my 6 inch shoes and run. The Kikoromeo kitenge skirt i was wearing did me justice, it was loose enough to allow me to take two stairs at a time. I had to reach the fourth floor, despite my extra long Brazilian human hair trying to cover my face.  I pulled the glass door wide open knocked my French vessel as i ran towards the kitchen calling Toto and you. There you were shaking like you were having a seizure, Toto was next to you laying in a pool of blood, the broken bottle of wine was all over the floor. “Meg what have you done!” I expressed, my eyes were straining to see, the tears were burning me up, i couldn’t feel my feet, I remember running past you carrying her in my arms. I did not want to say that she was not breathing. It would have killed my own efforts of trying to salvage the life of my angel. I drove to Getrude’s Children’s Hospital, the doctors and nurses came to my rescue. Toto was admitted, but every time i asked the doctor if she will be alright, he kept saying “i am afraid maa’m i do not have that answer for now.”

I waited for two hours, for the medic experts to bring back my daughter to life.

“Are you Karen Faraji?” Someone behind me asked. I turned and realized it was the Lead doctor.

“How is my daughter, please tell me she will be okay, please. It is her birthday, she will make it right?”  I said.

“Dr. Mbiti lead paediatrician, she is out of danger now.” He said.

I did not even wait for permission to get into the theatre. I ran towards its only to meet the nurse halfway, transferring Toto to the private wing. I accompanied her and even offered to cover my baby with a blanket. She fell asleep after a few minutes.

I walked to my car to get my scarf, my phone rang and there went the cake lady letting me know my cake was ready and they had put two special candles for the girl. I told the nurse to watch over her, as i rushed to pick up the cake. Nothing could hinder me from celebrating her birthday.

 On my way to the cake place, i remembered the day she was born, my Toto curled up in my arms and cried the whole night. My mother was there and so were my brothers and sisters. Being the first grandchild, the joy in their eyes doubled mine. The photographer came three days later to take pictures of us. I wanted the memory to last. I still do up to now.

I came back with the cake, only to open the door and find the room crowded. The moment the lead Dr. Mbiti put a stethoscope on the little girl’s chest, he nodded and gave me a face that read “i am sorry”.

Toto would be exactly 10 years now. Meg i am visiting you in jail to let you know that all i did to you was out of love. I used to consider you family. I was once a house help like you. Someone treated me in kind and made me the person you worked with and not for. Anyway, i received your letter. The one you gave to the prison warden. I have no idea you thought i got my money from men! Such disrespect!  I worked for every little thing you saw in that house. Explaining to me how the bottle slid and hit Toto in the head does not really help. You ran away the same day after knowing what had happened. You attempted to break into my house to get your clothes, on the day we were laying Toto to rest.  It was a good thing the watchman caught you.

Look at you now, with your poignant letter that describes your arrogant self more.  You mentioned that they are releasing you in a few weeks time, interesting to know, who didn’t you not sleep with to ensure the term is reduced? I know my anger will not bring her back. But my heart for sympathy died the day she died. Meg i am filing for your term to be increased!

DEAR MAMA BOOI

I wanted to talk about the weather, the weekend how people are doing good in terms of parenting (considering my neighbour’s kid is trying to do a headstand on the balcony ummh  5^th floor! ) let’s just stop right there:

LETTER TO MAMA BOOI:

Dear mama Booi, you are the one who got pissed Booi was making noise for you in the house and you were having your chama women around, you carelessly shouted to him, “ enda ukacheze uko nje!” Considering you warned him never to go play outside alone! What option does he have? 

Batman and Superman are the movies you let him watch when you detect you have not been a good mum and clearly you are to blame for his manners.

This is what happens when you try to bribe your kid to win his or her affection. The results tend not to fit your expectation.  I know you are wondering why I am talking and am not yet a mother! Well let’s just say potentially I am and I can certainly assure you I will not smile and say “awwwh” or “so cute”, when my boy makes those balcony dives, save me grounding because the African in me will whoop that behind as i reciprocate to him the words of my mother “unalia nini? Ebu niskie ukilia!”

 I like you mama Booi, don’t get it twisted am not gossiping about you, am stating facts.  You are a city woman, very busy I understand but trust me if you think you are stressed because of one son, find a day I take you to my village you meet Wa Kimu a mother of fourteen  boys who used to eat as though they had just arrived from a peacekeeping mission somewhere in the Gulf. The interesting part is, she was also working besides raising all of them.

I know you are going to murmur about economy and maisha ya Nairobi ni ngumu,  we all get it, but trust me if good kids come out of Bombay then you better listen to what am about to say. You may not practice everything but am sure inside my statements you will find a thing or two helpful. First off prioritization is very important in life, put first those things that you cannot purchase with a given dime, because those same things are the ones that will be by your side when you got zero dime. 

 Family: No matter how busy you are, you can never compensate the void created once you stray away from them. Children are interesting characters, they only need a moment of your time, some assurance that you are still mum and not that “aunty”  you live them with. As a matter of fact help them understand you will be there for them whenever time allows and while at it please pretend to like Samurai and Aladeen  even if you do not know them, sit and watch a whole episode.

Do not be a dictator, there is a difference between being firm and dictating. Being firm is looking at you son in the eyes and stating the reason why he cannot play outside giving the pros and cons of it, where as dictating is shouting a big NO! Followed by “utaona cha mtema kuni ukipita iyo mlango.” 

Find a day and stay outside watch him play, let him ride the bicycle without a care in the world, by the time you say enough with the playing ensure he and mother earth share the hue from head to toe. (utajuaje bei ya omo usipokuwa na nguo chafu).

I will never forgive you if you are those super busy women that allow your son to have popcorns and milk for dinner, convincing yourself ati ni kama tu ugali na maziwa!  Well we can debate about that but really mama Booi! You and that woman who made the daughter live believing that Vietnam was a war and not a country should be punished severely. Bananas are five shillings, please feed him some while you can.

Honestly there is a whole lot to write about the city parenting, how i meet  5 year old girls who can twerk like Minaj and whine like Beyonce, boys who got Khalifa swag and lift one side of their upper lip when saying their name (that one am certain watched empire with the house help and now his role model is Hakeem)  but for now let me leave you reflecting.

Open Letter to Teacher Oppressors!!

If you dare support that teachers who are refusing to go back to Wajir should be fired here is a piece of my mind specially written just for you!

Dear Teacher oppressor,

If a master cannot provide good care for his servants, then the work will be less pleasing and if he does force them to perfect their task despite the poor conditions then we automatically baptize his acts as the highest rate of shenaniganism!

You see you attained your degree or whatever level of achievement and secured yourself a position in the most posh office in the most cleanest and high rated building in the city! You love it don’t you! Kudos to you and your decadent peers who are not all that chaste. You are dying to know why i wrote this right?

That teacher, just like you had the freedom to choose your career and what you pleaseth to pursue, he or she also did. Devoted the rest of his/her valuable now turned miserable time (thanks to injustice) to help your child to never embarrass you in front of your elite business partners with his/her bad grammar. This same teacher has helped reduce your trip to school to find out how much is needed as school fees because finally you little boy/girl can now count and add numbers. Isn’t that great? Keep in mind when you too took that kid to school, they could hardly address a letter or pronounce your name correctly leave alone theirs. Now they even tweet and save stuff on sound cloud.

This dedicated teacher is not even asking for much. Unlike you who complains about a lift out of serviced for only 12 minutes, toilet water not being too clear, why your glass table is not glowing, your lunch is late! The calendar on your wall is not matching the hue of your grotesque office. This teacher simply says i feel insecure going back to that place. Period!

The above statement of insecurity is an open subject according to this teacher, if the security is there, he/she wouldn’t mind going back to improve the diction of a child somewhere.

Despite the poor working conditions like sharing rooms, challenges to access even some of the basic needs, this teacher has the knack to carry on with his or her duty. Some of our female teachers forgot what it is like to have a pedicure appointment, change hairstyle every weekend, go shopping and hang out with friends! Instead they are busy indoors trying to mark the poor handwritten assignment thanks to your kid. Guess what? They are still committed to correct that handwriting and bring out a flawless writer, even if it means going an extra mile. The sacrifice of raising a generation that is enlightened starts with this teacher.

In the allegory of the cave Plato states: You must contrive for your future rulers another and a better life than that of a ruler and then you may have a well-ordered state: for only in the state which offers this, will they rule who are truly rich, not in silver and gold but in virtue and wisdom, which are the true blessing of life.

So the next time you are hobnobbing with your political cronies and you decided to gang up and discuss how unscrupulous our teachers are, think about all the illiterate minions we would be having, including you if you wouldn’t have gone to school.

Remember this " We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark but the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light!!"

Yours faithfully

A lover of Justice!!!