10 Years On…

The radio was on. Background noise as I lay napping on that hot August day. As the news came on, I began to blank out when the newsreader began to read the report of a bombing in the KENYAN capital NAIROBI…that was all I heard. I sat bolt upright, heart pounding and got off the bed, rushed to log onto the Internet (in the days of dial up…it was the longest I ever waited to go online!) to see what was going on, then I began to frantically dial home. Luckily for me, the phone lines were not yet too busy. I got through on the first try and spoke with my sister. Our house was ‘Command Central’. Everyone was calling in to report that they were OK. I really wanted to be in Kenya at that moment. I wanted to be there with my family. Much as it was so good to hear their voices, I eventually had to end the call because other family members would be trying to call in. (This was before cellphones).

At first it seemed like nobody in our family had been caught up in the madness that was the Embassy Bombing…then people started wondering why my aunt hadn’t yet called in to say she was fine. The family realized that she worked in the Cooperative Bank building. She had gone to work that day. My uncle, fearing the worst as he drove into town from Eastlands abandoned his car somewhere near Machakos Bus Station (engine running, keys in the ignition) and ran the rest of the way to try to find his wife. In all the chaos there was no hope or any news for a while.

Sitting in Montreal, I called all the Kenyans I knew. I tried getting through to Kenya again to no avail (I’d been lucky. Most of my friends were not able to get through for hours). I worried about my aunt. I called my sister in Philadelphia. I watched the news compulsively.  As Kenyans in Montreal we reached out to each other,  reassured ourselves that it would be OK. Over the next few days the picture was clear- it was a terrorist attack. Many Kenyans and Tanzanians were dead. I wondered what was the point in killing all those innocent people. In hindsight the attacks were probably a trial run for future terrorist attacks.  

Finally, they found my aunt at Kenyatta Hospital receiving treatment. Apparently when the bomb went off she wound up trapped by her desk. Her colleagues, clearly shaken and in shock had run off and left her to her own fate. One had told her “We jaribu kujitoa tu” (just try and free yourself) before she clambered over the debris and out of the office- not sure if they still exchange Christmas cards .

There was no predicting who had been affected…anybody could have been walking past the US Embassy at that time (god only knows how many times I did so on my way to Moi Avenue after getting off a bus at the ‘Agip’ bus stop). There were always people hanging out around the front steps of the Cooperative Bank building whenever I walked by there…I wonder how many were there on that day. The images that stay with me to this day are of the burned out shells of the buses and cars in the street, frozen in time; makeshift stretchers being used to haul victims out of the ruins; Joseph Kamotho being helped out of the Embassy, his face bloody; and the poignant story of Rose, the lady trapped in the debris for hours awaiting rescue.

Human beings have been committing acts of violence against each other for centuries. We never learn. It does nothing but breed more violence. It has been 10 years in which the world has seen so much more turmoil (granted peace has come to many places in that time too). So many more acts of violence continue to take place. I feel that we, as human beings have not made more progress to safeguard the lives of more of our fellow men. When you think of all the people that were affected on that one day in Nairobi or Dar es Salaam you cannot help but extrapolate that number to Somalia, Congo, Iraq, Afghanistan…then multiply this by the number of days that these areas have been in conflict. In commemorating this day, I am asking myself what I will do, as 1 person so that one less innocent person has to be affected by another’s violence.

Summer Joys

Growing up in Kenya, the sun was never this ‘big’ thing…it was just there. Omnipresent, always available, hardly a topic for conversation.The thing is, having lived this long in Canada, I’ve come to understand why the obsession with the sun! You don’t get that much sunshine here most of the time, or rather, it is not evenly distributed so the winter months feel so dark and gloomy (in Montreal some winter days would get dark by 4pm- depressing!). When summer comes it is like a whole new country! Everybody and their dog is out and about, everyone is friendly and smiling, everything tastes better, the office is empty most Fridays, and generally this warm lulled feeling comes over you. I don’t worship the sun so summer isn’t about sun-bathing, it is not even my favourite season- spring is. It’s about everything else that makes you really feel like every day is a holiday.

Taking A Stand

I have spent this afternoon registering my disappointment in the Associated Press. There was a story on CNN.com re: the increase in child prostitution since the post-election violence in Kenya last January. There were names, pictures etc on the site that did little to protect the identities of the victims of violence and exploitation. The letters I wrote came from deep inside. These girls have already been victims to the men who have sex with them…why would the Associated Press add to their exploitation by displaying an image of a girl in such a situation?

I was not impressed! Particularly because a previous, similar story focusing on Child Prostitution in N. America ensured that the faces of the American victims were obscured and un-identifiable…hopefully my 1 letter changes how stories of female exploitation in Africa are told in the Western media.

This evening, a friend told me of how she attended a workshop on making documentaries where people talked of there being no need to get signed waivers from African subjects as they were unlikely to view the documentary therefore they were unlikely to sue!!!!

Take a Stand!

The story on CNN.com:

http://www.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/africa/07/31/kenya.prostitution.ap/index.html?iref=mpstoryview

A Little More Respect Please…

Why is it that Kenyan parents would trust their 30-something year old daughter to make important decisions e.g. relating to her career, what car to drive, how much money to save or invest, how much money to contribute to her parents’ upkeep…yet they cannot trust her to make the decision of the man she chooses to love or even better, they cannot accept her choice of how she will celebrate her marriage to him? And no, this is not about me (before I start getting calls about this from ‘concerned’ folks he he).

In recent weeks I have encountered some interesting scenarios and come to the conclusion that both sides: parents and daughters need a serious reality check. An acquaintance of mine lives here in Canada with her boyfriend. They have shared a place for ages, and have just completed the purchase of an apartment. So imagine how surprised I was that even though it’s been at least 3-4 years of cohabiting, she has never told her mother in Kenya that she is living with this fellow! I was taken aback- you can move thousands of miles, navigate a foreign system, get a job etc, but you cannot tell 1 woman that you are living with a man who you love? Really, why would you want to be living like you are still 15? Like, GROW UP!!! Seriously! This is an extreme of how many Kenyans relate to their parents. Most of us are upfront, respectful, honest and relatively open with our parents. The problem is that sometimes, I think our parents choose to not respect our choices, they belittle our decisions, force their opinions down our throats, and make things very uncomfortable particularly during major life transitions like marriage!

For When it Mattered

To: my friends, my family, random strangers I have encountered

Where’s the Love?

A few weeks ago I read about a ban on mourning and reporting about/from assemblies of the parents of children killed in the earthquake that devastated Sichuan province in China. They were asked to cancel a memorial for their children (no doubt for political reasons). I sat silent, shocked that any person would tell another how to mourn the loss of their flesh and blood. Worse, I just imagined the double tragedy of a say, a woman past child bearing age who had dutifully respected the 1 child policy only to lose her one and only child. TRAGIC doesn’t even come close to describing this. Yet, the world still turns. Oblivious. Next please. Is it any wonder African governments are all ‘looking East’ these days?

I’m back (yay!)…not that anyone ever knew I was gone

With the sporadic nature of my blogging habits, I can’t really say I was gone- more like I was just procrastinating 90% of the time these past few weeks, then I got really busy for the remaining 10% of the time! If something can be put off so that I can pursue any of my vices pleasures, it shall be put off…but this June, I reached new heights. I could not even be bothered to go to my local supermarket (5 min walk from door to door) and claim the FREE prize that I won after I scratched a gift token (3 weeks after receiving it). When did I become like this? I look at what I achieved in June, compare it to what I planned in May and shake my head- where did the time go?

All Creatures ‘Great’ and Small

Two stories I have read today leave me convinced that before the internet my life was very staid and dull. How did I survive without stories that leave me chuckling or in most cases gasping for breath at their hilarity?  Honestly, my days are much brighter thanks to stories of camels humping their owners to death (yes, in Australia somewhere), stories of dogs shooting their owners (don’t need to think where- it was in the great US of A), naked carjackers (this morning, somewhere in Maple Ridge, BC) among other human follies!

Who’s Your Mummy!!!

My mother and I are not the world’s closest lovey-dovey mother-daughter team. If I actually told her explicitly that I loved her, she would probably roll her eyes and change the topic…or suspect that I was dying. We will never be winners in the ‘shining-example-of-mother-daughter-hood’ category. We are more like the world’s best mother-daughter acquaintances/sometime-friends. Some people love their mothers out of duty, others because they have that kind of relationship with their mother. Saying I love her beyond what is considered filial duty would be stretching it- I don’t have such strong emotions about her…if you knew her, you would know that she is of the school of thought that views the act of kicking young offspring out of nests as a necessary evil. She is an interesting human being…as the woman who bore me, and the woman who continues to bear me, she fascinates me. This mothers’ day I would say that I am glad for all the things about me that come from having 50% of my DNA inherited from my mother…and sometimes, I’ll confess, perturbed by what I may have inherited from her in that 50%.

Faster Pasta

This is the first actual recipe in what should be a series…if I can keep up the energy and remember to bring my camera to the kitchen (I’m no EGM, so it takes ages to get the pics just right…a real eye opener). I really love pasta because it is filling or light depending on what you serve it with. I’ve always found it funny that given all the different shapes Pasta comes in, each tastes the same, they are the same…but we still stock up on different varieties. I guess the point of the shapes is what use you plan to put them to. My favourite pasta is spaghetti without a doubt. I have always found the act of twirling it expertly around my fork a worthwhile challenge and half the fun of eating it.

I don’t eat much rice anymore, so whole wheat pasta is a staple in my cupboard. This recipe is my favourite because it is simple to prepare, nutritious, and colourful. Though I make this version with shrimp, you can replace these with chicken, beef or pork strips. I just happen to have a seafood store close by where I can get fresh shrimp cheaply. The Basil can be replaced with dhania  (coriander) as I do sometimes depending on my mood. The hot chillis too are optional if you don’t like it too hot.