If I had a daughter, or a son, I'd start a blog exclusively for her or
him, as the case may be. Meanwhile, allow me to bore you with stories of
my nieces and nephews. Though she'll be 1 year old on 18th April, Beaty
is the latest addition. Today I was at their place, after somewhat a
long time. One would think she had forgotten me for being such a bad
uncle. I found her being fed lunch and on sighting me, she decided she
had had enough. I am that guy who makes her lose her appetite. She is
one person I'd not doubt if she pulled that line of 'hata chakula sikuli
nikikuwaza' And my sister Egrah Njoki. Then I made the mistake of
disappearing into the washroom. The little girl can cry. I guess I took
long in there. In the washroom! I always spend my time well there. We
all do afterall, or at least those of us who are not ashamed of
admitting it. I've had friends who find the toilet more peaceful than the bedroom. I digress! Now, after I came out she ran to me and wanting
me to hold her. She actually wanted me to notice her 'smartie'. That's
how she refers to all her tops and dresses. She believes all are
beautiful. Shock on you if you try and say yours is. She will shake her
head in disagreement. I know am quite observative, especially with kids.
I'd have told you of a story of a little girl who came to sit with me
in a mat to talk me up but I already did. She was bold enough to ask me
my name first. Maybe she was bored of her mum. I think kids know that I
love them and they don't shy away from reciprocating the love. I
digress, again!
I am served lunch for two but Beaty is there to help
me. You know how kids will not eat their food but wanataka ya mgeni. We
manage to finish half the food as the other half ends up on the floor.
I've realized that kids prefer food that has spilled over on the floor
to one served on a plate. Beaty will bear me witness on this fact. She
actually does it herself; transferring food from the plate to the floor
before eating it. Just when I thought I'd had enough she surprises me
when she leads me to clap for her after she brings me her new toy. An
aeroplane! I conclude that she just wants to show off. I clap for her
albeit involuntarily. Uncle is too full and wants a rest. She doesn't
notice. She holds both my hands and makes me clap as we count. The zeal
she does this with would cheat you into believing she understands
anything am saying. I taught her how to clap and am happy she hasn't
forgotten. There are a couple of other things I've taught her that I
won't mention. Like sticking her tongue out and making that 'wawawawa'
sound with her mouth.
The girl makes faces when I pick my bag to
leave. Faces that seem to shout in caps. 'Can't you see that I missed
you, Or am I not doing enough?' She seemed to ask. Am sorry dear but
uncle has to go and study so he can have a bright future. Soon enough
she'll start believing, like her other cousin Dennis Mbiri, that after
university one automatically buys a car. It's like a grant that we're
entitled to. I wish it were the case but sorry honey, your uncle is not
an MP. At least not when they're still referred to as MPigs.
