I can’t explain the shock that enveloped me when my five-year-old daughter asked who the caps (read sufurias coated with soot) she saw hanging on my grandmother’s kitchen wall belonged to.
We were visiting upcountry, something we hadn’t done in a long time. At first, I thought she was joking, only to realise that she was dead serious when she declared that they were as cool as Ne-Yo’s, the American R&B artist.
As our visit progressed, it became embarrassing to realise that there were many things that my little girl was ignorant of, facts that she should have had at her fingertips.
My daughter was shocked to see a cow being milked. She thought milk comes from the supermarket. It was also the first time she was seeing a goat, which she confused for a dog and innocently asked what type of dog eats leaves.
She could hardly contain her excitement when she came across a herd of cattle. It was an unforgettable experience.
You should have seen the wonder in her eyes as she watched my grandmother light a fire to make the evening meal. Not even the choking and thick smoke could persuade her to get out of the kitchen.
She was mesmerised. The village stream was the ultimate source of joy, setting her off asking many questions, including why someone was “pouring” all that clean water.
Going to the village was a life-changing experience for my daughter, who had only known city life. A world that she didn’t know existed was thrown wide open.
She was used to only one pattern — school and home. At home, she would retreat to the bedroom with her dolls or settle for the PlayStation. Worse still, she was an addict of television.
I worried about how she was going to cope with being away from the TV for a week when we set off for the trip.
Sunday school in the village proved to be another chance to show her that church is also a place you can have fun.
Having my grandmother narrate a story every night about our community’s heroes, like Wangu wa Makeri and Dedan Kimathi, was hilarious and eye-opening.
She kept asking questions until she understood the significance of the roles that the heroes played. She went back home a more enlightened person.
She no longer spends time on TV and sometimes goes out to play, although most of our neighbours keep their children indoors. She sometimes attempts housework and evening walks with her father have become a highly anticipated activity because she gets to see the outside world.
People tend to forget that the word “history” contains the word “story”. Most of us believe that the past is always a rebuke to the present and have swept our traditional past under the carpet.
True, some of these traditions have no place in our modern society, such as female circumcision and wife inheritance, but what about naming ceremonies, male circumcision, and even more important, the significance of traditional weddings?
My daughter is not old enough to understand these practices, but I want her to know that water can also be kept in a pot.
If you want to understand today, you have to search for yesterday. History is who we are and why we are the way we are. Let’s be proud to pass the baton to our children.
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