Now that the tear gas fumes are subsided from the City, at the command of Baba, let me unleash my village annals for you.
One of our own, from the Lakeside, in the direction where the sun takes its nap has become the talk of town. This is after those people who give others marks for doing well in pretending, gave her number one for pretending to be a twelve years slave or a slave for twelve years or both of the above. She is not little famous now. In fact, she was declared the most beautiful woman in the world after snow white. I do not know what parameters they used because my HM far as I am concerned is far beyond Snow White. Let us leave that discussion because only those who behold beauty are allowed to rate it. My interest is the fact that she said that every dream is valid.
Njaagira is one of the men in my village annals. Definitely you remember I booked myself a space in this all important document of my place of birth after being one who came closest to the metallic fowl. The subject here was not only famous but he became a legend those days of Kaviu son of Nthiga which when interpreted means Knife son of Rabbit. Let us leave Knife alone. Njaagira was famous for dreaming. He seemed to have seen that which Lupita had seen and later said-that all dreams are valid. All said and done, this man’s dream has remained memorable in the village hence its documentation in the village annals.
Njaagira was a goal-getter. He was a true African. Not only due to his color but also because of the number of descendants he had brought forth all courtesy of one HM. As I told you before it was a bad omen to count children in the Mango County simply because they believed it was bad enough to be bad. Njaagira had a bunch full of one score plus five daughters in his sheepfold. In the context of wealth per unit girl this man could have been a competitor of Kamlesh the son of Pattni. Assuming that each was worth twenty domesticated buffaloes, we are talking of roughly three hundred and if you multiply that with thirty thousand then Njaagira was going to have nine million! That is not little money.
My man had only one problem-he did not have an heir. Many days he admired his neighbor who had many boys and Njaagira hated to think of all his girls going to his neighbour and hence becoming his heirs. The other limitation was that his HM was past the bearing limit hence the man was lost for options. My people have a saying that whatever is impossible for men it is turned-you know what I mean? This was not going to be any mountain for Njaagira. Even without Lupita’s inspiration Njaagira began with a desire.
More than often he would not fail to narrate to his HM his desire to have at least one heir who would inherit his estate. His HM would encourage Njaagira to acquire a younger number two but Njaagira would not take any of her suggestions. His faith transcended that of Abraham of the Good Book. He kept on believing that one day of days he would get an heir either through his one and only HM or by himself-surely every dream is valid and this man had a desire not matched by anyone in the near past, not even that of the Moyes Boys topping the Premier League in the land of our former colonizers.
Njaagira kept his candle burning and no amount of pessimism was going to put off his desire for his dream to be fulfilled. He kept on dreaming on and on he kept his spirit alive. He kept on hoping against all hope that one day he would embrace a son. Even without Martin Luther’s speech of “I have a dream”, Njaagira decided to dream on. This man was focused! He even went shopping for baby clothes tailored for a baby boy. He gathered basins and buckets in readiness of receiving an heir. His HM scorned at the idea but Njaagira like the wall builders of the Good Book, he dreamed on. Men can be passionate!
One night of nights Njaagira had the conviction that the Maker would reward his passion and bring his desires to pass. The people from Mango County say that he that waiteth, shaketh not. My guy shook not. His conviction was strong. He was confident like Dida the teacher who wanted to be the tenant of the House on the Hill and was going to sign a bill of “eat once take water thrice” to raise money to irrigate North Eastern Province so as it becomes the national basket. Well, dreams are valid and Mwalimu can still hang on.
After eating his favorite millet ugali he said goodbye and goodnight to his HM and climbed his abode. He was in a good mood so he decided to sleep and dream on. The heavens opened up and Njaagira saw a baby boy drop from heaven into his belly. My people attest to the fact that they come from heaven cut cut, whatever things these are! For my man, destiny was beckoning and nothing was going to stop his moment of glory. As soon as the boy was deposited in his belly, he heard the instructions, “Push!” and so he did. According to him it had happened.
After that delivery he slept soundly but smiling. At dawn, he summoned his HM with a thunderous call. He ordered her to bring the napkins for behold the moment they had waited for had come. The HM was puzzled but with kingly husbands like Njaagira, his word was like for Baba Moi them days. She hurriedly took the required things, climbing up granary in haste, almost breaking her legs. “Pull the blanket gently lest you kill the baby” rumbled Njaagira. HM followed instructions but what greeted her was the smell. There was no baby but a smelly hill of the byproducts of the millet ugali!