Everybody has been around for the first two years of their life without ever noticing, unless you are super human. Kibra is not just a slum, it stands out for many other good reasons. For your information, I love calling it chocolate city. This is due to the old, grey rust-stained iron sheets that stands boldly when viewing from any raised angle of the city. My parents lived here and I also live here. This is a life we have chosen, not settled for it.
I attended a kindergarten school which has long been demolished because it is alleged that it was illegally constructed in a Kenya Railways land. My journey continued to the infamous Toi Primary School where I schooled until class 5. Toi market was such a mess during the rainy season and believe me you, 20 years down the line the status quo remains. This market was a perfect place for the ‘boys’ to exploit their mischievousness. These adventures ranged from stealing toys to hawking at our classmate girls. It was considered manly to have a girl. There were games that were meant to involve the opposite sex. One of these games is “Chobo Uaa”. This game was tricky since if one was caught off guard, he heard to go and touch a girl in order to be free. Most boys made it and it was such a pleasure. Otherwise, he would be lynched seriously.
It is interesting how we did not see anything strange about us, how we passed good houses, well adorned children, leave alone knowing about kingly meals. We were satisfied and confident about our condition. We found a lot of pleasure in playing football and video games besides watching movies.
Playing football before accomplishing house chores was punishable by missing a meal but going to watch a video or playing ‘PS’ was a high voltage sin. However, the boys were boys and nothing could stop us. It is in the culture of the slum kids to form teams from neighbouring households. Our team was called the Lucky Boys.. I can’t tell how far it went. It is certain that it could not make any major strides because of the stereotypical mindset of our parents that only acknowledged class work. At one point, a “mzungu” white, found us playing football and dicided to take the ball made from polythene bags and gave us a leather ball. It went a long way to establish us as a team. May God bless him wherever he is. I remember I used to draw good pictures but was one day beaten because I used one of my syllabus exercise books. If only I could be bought a drawing book?!?.. All the same I schooled and excelled and here I am. Nothing much
From my heart
MATTERSLIFEMATTER 