In Kenya we have such household names like Wangari Maathai, Martha Karua, Charity Ngilu, Esther Passaris and many others. In Africa we have Ellen Johnson Sirleaf and In the United States, we have names like Michelle Obama, Rosa Louise McCauley Park, among others. These heroines take pride of place in the hall of fame for their achievements.
But in the little known village of Kacheliba behind the hills there is an unsung heroine. Her name is Paulina Maya Choram. But let us just call her Mama Salem as she is well-known. She bears no title, she holds no public office, she has no CV to place to the world. She has not been to any conference nor to any formal gathering. Neither has she anything that can be said of her in the lofty speeches of men. My mama does not fit into these categories. I admit she doesn’t even come close to it. And why should she? She’s never called a press conference and said: “Hey look Kenya, my name is….”. She’s not participated in any Tusker Project Fame to grab media attention. She’s not even a comedian to make her popular.
That is why I have to sing for her, to serenade her. For to me she extols the virtues that I hold onto. For her simplicity, I have to decorate her. For her patience, I have to reward her with words gold-plated with meaning and value. Perhaps in her frailties too that I hold her more dear.
She will not read this. Not because she doesn’t want to or does not have the time. It is not even because she is not in Facebook. It is because she was not privileged enough to finish her Primary. Despite this though she constantly beckoned Fobian, Kevin and I to take education seriously. I remember when I was preparing to go to Campus she said: “Mondanyu ( Pokot word for my child), enda usome..usiende kuchekacheka na watoto wa wenyewe..Msichana ya mtu akikuambia oooh nakupenda mwambie acha tumalize shule kwanza halafu tufunge harusi”. And when I laughed at this, she said: “Unacheka nini? Hii si mambo ya kucheka. Wewe ukienda shule usiangalie kando..angalia vitabu, usome vitabu zote”. She took her advice seriously.
Sometimes in my flights of fancy when these flash through my mind I laugh (that is why some people think I am nuts). In my fantasy sometimes I try to picture how my mum will behave in CUEA. May be we are in a group discussion with ladies ( in my group we were only 3 men in a group of about 10). Now let us imagine that she is standing at a distance carefully watching my movements. I approach my group members and proceed to hug them and rubbing on their backs (enyewe nimetoka mbali from rough bear hugs he he) and exchanging pleasantries. Wait. My mum is in tears. She is shaking her head. She rushes from where she has been hiding from and screams: “Salem, sasa hii ndio kusoma?..nilikuambia usicheze na wasichana na wewe hapa unashikanashikana na wao? Wenzako wako kwa darasa na wewe uko nje..”. It is too much. I explain something to the effect that we don’t have a class at that time and that we are discussing for an assignment. She won’t hear anything of it. She proceeds: “Hii ni shule gani hii..Mwalimu wa duty ako wapi..Staffroom yenu iko wapi..Hee..Naongea na wewe..Staffroom yenu iko wapi??” I explain to her that we don’t have teachers on duty or any staffroom and she is mad. “Salem motto yangu, hata kama sikuenda shule huwezi kunidanganya..Niko na akili..”. By this time all my lady friends have fled with comments like “Oh Jesus”, “Couldn’t see it coming” “At this day and age” “Huyo pero ni mnoma..ni fyam”. But I am quiet, embarrassed. Fortunately, my mum wouldn’t do this. She will just retreat and meet me privately and give me time to defend my case. Yes. The right to be heard. She understands that principle. It is only that she cannot write it.
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