Category: mapenzi

ucheshi wa mtoto ni anga la nyumba

In a world where bad news are good news, it’s about time for some really good news that show us something else instead.

My sweet and beloved niece is celebrating her 2nd birthday today, and while she was busy unpacking all her many presents, I couldn’t help but thinking of those many kids that have to share their toys with others. As soon as my niece grows up, I will teach her the joy of sharing.

One of those places dominated by kids and lots of love is The Nest Home in Limuru, Kenya. The Nest Home is “a Project for the Rescue, Rehabilitation and Integration of Children in Conflict with the Law & Children of Imprisoned Mothers” and was founded some years ago with the help of many different people who all contributed to this worthy cause.
The children’s orphanage is located about 20 km outside of Nairobi and provides a loving home for those less fortunate, who’s parents are either in prison or dead.

Nest
screenshot of The Nest Home’s website

The fact that their website currently runs on my webspace actually prevented me from blogging on them for a long time, as I didn’t want to be biased on this. There are in fact many wonderful experiences I could put here, lots of joy I encountered while visiting the Nest last year. This is such a wonderful place!

As MB, who diligently maintains the website, already mentions on one of the pages: there are many ways YOU can actually help these kids!

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On a very personal note, and why I decided to blog about this anyways:

  • fellow blogger AfroM recently informed me that she, Hash, Mental and others are having plans to visit The Nest soon – great! :-)
  • we’ve built this website (running on WP) not only to inform others on the project, but also to show the transparency of the project and that the persons in charge don’t “benefit” in any (financial) way as some sceptical pundits might assume for whatever reason or so…
  • i really appreciate the “ownership” from the Kenyan side, and how locals in Limuru have started to acknowledge the home being inside their community.
  • i recently read this note on the Cutting Edge @ the DN on fathers who want to do some DNA / paternity test to see who’s the real father of their children. now that’s so stupid! that’s exactly why some of these children have never seen their fathers. Being a father, I believe, isn’t about having a coherent DNA with your kid, but about giving it the love it needs. I actually changed my mind on adoption after visiting The Nest Home.
  • maintaining a website in at least two different languages isn’t easy, as some contributions come from countries like Germany where not everyone (especially the older generation) speaks English. The challenge is to include all audiences and showing them how their contributions are being used for the benefit of the children.
    I know many critics will mix up Charitable Trusts with overfunded NGOs, but I can assure you that The Nest Home has a remarkably low expenditure on overhead costs.

rumba…

SANY0433

Steve already received his copy the other day, and since I found a perfect deal to secure mine for only 10,- EUR, I just couldn’t resist…

For more literature on contemporary music from the continent, here’s an interesting PDF (~0,2 MB) from the Depatment of Anthropolgy and African Studies @ the University of Mainz in Germany.

Next book on my wishlist is Gerhard Kubik’s “Africa and the Blues”.

Mieren neuken.

Mieren neuken.

* Literal Translation: “Engaging in sex with ants.”
* Meaning: “Being obsessed with details.”
* English equivalent: “Splitting hairs.”

Perhaps one of the reasons I fell in love with the Netherlands the other day. :-)

the message

“If blogging is your strength, then do that”, sista Kui told me some minutes ago. I told her about a message I had received this morning at 6 am which really disturbed me, and also relieved me to some extend. And that I would want to blog on it no matter what.

It’s about my father. My mum informed me this morning that my father had peacefully stopped breathing at about 3 am after a long illness we call Alzheimer’s disease.

“How are you feeling?”, people started asking me. Well, how am I supposed to feel? I don’t know. I know there is something inside that wants to break free and cry, and I feel this urge inside to put these emotions into words because that’s my way of expressing my feelings. It feels like there are a thousand words that describe the situation, and at the same time there is nothing left to say.

But I didn’t come here to tell you about my grief. I came here to tell you about a wonderful and positive experience I had this evening.

Right now I am staying at a friend’s place who’s running a children orphanage. Since everyone was kinda busy tonight, I was asked to take care of a little boy for a few hours. His 16year old mother had tried to abort him 2,5 years ago, and together with her mother and grandmother, they tried to get rid of him in a pit latrine after he had refused to die right after the abortion.

This very same boy is now very healthy and very smart. His joyful smile and vital way of learning new things showed me once again what life is all about. And it helped me a lot to let go and welcome new life. For me, meeting this young man showed me that I am the adult now, the 31year old dude who needs to get his own family and keep that life thing going. And I liked it. I am ready for it.

These days when life does strange things with you while you’re busy making other plans, it is good to close each day with a smile on your face and accept those things you can not change with some easiness that is driven by content from within.

—

Also, the older I become, I realize how much I resemble my father: his passion for arts, music, literature, antiques and other things. Heck, some of his older friends even tell me how much I look like him!
You see, he was about my age when he took up his first assignment in India in the mid 1960s as a German language teacher. Moving from Germany down to a chaotic New Delhi meant a lot during those days, but he somehow managed it, and it also shaped him in many ways. Some of his students are still keeping contact with us after all these years!

papaindie5
my father somewhere in India, 1966

And just like him, I decided to give up all these securities in Germany and move to Kenya with an uncertain future, taking into account that my father might die when I am abroad. It is this place here at this distance which allowed me to eventually think about a lot of things that happened in the past, how we used to take care of him and how he loved me and my sister, and especially my mum.

It is the distance between him and us due to this shitty Alzheimer’s disease that taught us a lot of things about family, love and being there for each other.

How am I supposed to feel grief inside if I keep on being remembered of the good things that came along with all this? Instead, it is this happiness inside that gives me the strength to keep on doing my thing in a way which somehow resembles his.

—

Talking about death, there’s one more thing I would like to mention: I told you about this funeral I’d been attending late last year somewhere in Mwingi district. During those 3 hours of a funeral service in a language I didn’t understand, where me and my colleagues where the guests of honour, I eventually realized the role death plays and how a funeral is regarded to be part of the culture here. At times when lots of people are dying before their age due to AIDS and other diseases, people have started to accept it being a part of their life. Contrary to a funeral in Germany, where everyone is dressed in dark clothes and just silent, this funeral in Mwingi included a choir singing warm songs and thus giving me, the outsider, an understanding of what this is all about. It made me realize that I am very much ready to accept these things and that I may just trust in my faith.

When I am going back to Germany now to attend his funeral and eventually finish my studies soon, I will try to export some of these spirits and remember how I was welcomed to this place I always considered my second home.

And to be honest, I have no idea when I will able to return and what this new year which has just started will have to offer. But at least I am not afraid anymore, and that’s a damn good feeling.

on asking questions

There’s this friend of mine who thinks my life is all about blogging and that I’d only attend certain events in order to blog them later on.
She’s has therefore stopped asking me questions about my life as she argues “Oh, but I can read about it all on your blog!”.

Well, yeah?

Such statements really piss me off.

06-12k008
(random snapshot from my life)

le fabuleux destin….

Kikuyumoja’s Realm, my blog, has in the past greatly been influenced by this particular love of one fine woman out there: Mbuzimoja.
A great deal of this passion included the frequent and very intensive exchange of ideas, thoughts, feelings and findings. It were these things that made this relationship so very special and different from others.

listeningsmall

Mbuzimoja, that little goat from the slopes of Kikwaru, is with another herdsman now, who btw also blogs. And although I don’t know much about him, I tend to respect and trust him, and I think she’s in good hands.

I haven’t been blogging anything lately – but not because there wasn’t anything to write about. Instead, it’s this joy of sharing my worlds with others that has somehow vanished. A joy that had been nutured by intellectual, creative and interesting input from those that inspired me the most.

Love sure is the driving force behind many actions in my life. The difficulty is to keep on doing things once these driving forces have changed their directions.