Last Sunday, we took a drive with my mum and my boys down to Gatundu to visit my shosho. I love Gatundu. I love its memories. When I was a little girl, every school holiday, my folks would ship my three siblings and I to Gatundu.
We delighted in the adventures of the village life. We loved the munyororoko and climbing the loquat trees (why we used to call them luguad trees I don’t know). We loved eating passion fruits direct from the tree -unwashed and unripe. For some reason those ones tasted better than the ripe, purple, washed ones that shosho would lay out for us on a clean plate.
But we didn’t like everything about life in Gatundu. My two brothers and I disliked having to pick coffee beans from guka’s farm, which we had to do for about three hours each day. We always looked for excuses to avoid doing so, but they never worked. We had to pick the beans otherwise shosho would threaten to report us to our dad when he came to pick us up. The mere thought of what dad would do to us for being lazy was enough to motivate us to get on our feet and pick those coffee beans -fast and furiously!
The weekend before opening day, our folks would come back for us in our treasured family car –the white Fiat 127. Once back home, we would first have to dip our feet in warm water mixed with Dettol as mum removed the jiggers off our toes and ugly, cracked, brown feet. This she would do with a safety pin. When I think about it now, I think mum was a very patient woman. Patiently removing jiggers from four children all lined up is no joke. Bless you mum.
I totally miss that life, sometimes wishing I would be a kid again so that I can go back and enjoy the Gatundu life with my siblings and grandparents.
So anyway, grandma has grown really old. I last saw her just before Christmas last year, and I was amazed at how fast she’d aged in those few months. Grandma is in her 90’s now, but despite me thinking she’s aged fast in the last eight months, I think she’s still pretty strong enough for her age.
So my boys spent the better part of their visit in two different ways: Ello spent it chasing after the animals while Kitty spent the day indoors, next to his grandma and his great-grandma. Kitty and animals are like night and day. They don’t meet. Poles apart.
I’m always amazed at the different personalities of my boys. One is such a gentle and cautious soul, while the other walks around with a ‘bring-it-on-I-am-not-afraid-of-anything’ attitude :). Yet, their different personalities connect them so well together it always intrigues me.