Mummytales: Travelling to Shaggz with Babies
Our going to gichagi in Western Kenya –specifically in Matunda, Moi’s Bridge is always filled with lots of fun. We usually go the whole extended family –all aunts, uncles, cousins and our lovely kukhu.
The last time I was in shaggz was in 2011 when my relatives from Central Kenya (my paternal peeps from Othaya and maternal ones from Gatundu) had gone to see ‘where I went’ (direct translation from Kikuyu). I had written about that here and here. That time Kitty was just six months old but now, we went when he was 3.7 years old and with a little brother to bootWe give thanks.
I think my kids will have nice memories of the village trips to the farm. Earlier this year, we had gone to Nyeri and I wrote about that here.
Being in Matunda also reminded me of my own childhood memories of shaggz. We mainly went to Gatundu because my grandparents on my dad’s side had passed on a long time before. I actually never met my paternal guka as he died before I was born.
In shaggz, the goats used to sleep in the kitchen while the chicken was in a room next door. I remember I used to share my food with the goats because I used to feel so sorry for them that I was eating and they were not.
I remember when sitting on three-legged stools in the kitchen while waiting for shosho’s tea to boil and which we would eat with slices of tothi, we would roast some potatoes on the three-stoned jiko.
We used to go pick coffee during the day (and eat almost half of what we picked –raw coffee pods). Then my brothers would go to the monada (cattle dip). I always felt sad that I never got to a cattle dip because shosho said that girls don’t go to there. I really wanted to see a live cattle get into the monada, but sadly, I guess this will never happen because I hear cattle dips are so like yesterday and they don’t exist anymore. I also remember when we would slide in the munyororoko (mudslides). Then we would go tua thara for the cows (don’t know what thara is in English). We would also climb the mango and loquat (luguad) trees and eat the fruits from there –unwashed and some of them unripe.
No wonder we were always being dewormed.
On Thursdays, we would go to ndunyu (market day) with shosho to buy and sell stuff. And on Sundays, we would scrub our very dirty feet with Rexona, put on our Sunday best, and apply thick layers of vaseline on our faces and walk about 10 km to church — in Kiganjo.
About two days before we opened a school, folks would come for us where we and our jiggered feet would hop into our treasured family car –the white Fiat 127. Then mum would spend the next few hours removing our jiggers with a safety pin as we narrated to her all our holiday escapades in the village. Good old memories I tell you.
I miss those days and I miss the times spent with my siblings –Betty, Danny and Sammy and my cousin Shiro who would often accompany us. All grown up now. Love you guys.
I hope I will be able to give my two boys such good memories as we had.
Read more of Maryanne’s family adventures on her Blog.
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