This Is What I Think About When People Ask Me What It's Like Living In Africa
Kenyans. We say we understand English, but we never like the hard words, which are also English. We make fun of the well-to-do for lacking grammatical skills in Swahili, but our grammatical Swahili is atrocious and appalling to its natives. We create a slang of our own that changes every day. If you're not part of the loop, the words may pass you. If you're not a social media fiend, the words and backstory may pass you. If you don't know how to use the lingo, the lingo will be weaponised against you. Kenyans. We pick whatever word we like and twist it into something different because maybe its original form was a mistake and we're known for our disobedience to grammatical rules. You have to add alien words here and there in the text for the post to truly feel "Kenyanised".
That's the vibe. Who wouldn't wanna be a part of the party? Being a Kenyan is more than citizenship. It's fashionable. It's beautiful. It's humour only we possess and convey with artistic brilliance. Even in our pain, we say we're not boarding. Who wouldn't want to be a Kenyan? Who wouldn't want to forge IDs to be a part of this great nation? A nation that loves to complain and find unity in gossiping about the leaders we hate to love to vote for. And then do it all over again like the abusive relationship it is. If Kenya were a family, our government would be the alcoholic stepfather. Safaricom would be the creepy uncle always praising to put in a good word for a job opportunity if we just wait a little longer for his promotion to open the pearly gates. They switch off the phone on us when we call for a follow-up but we always see that uncle in family gatherings assuring us he's working on it. KCB would be the cousin of your rich uncle who simply was blessed to share the same genes, be in the right place at the right time, and happen to know a thing or two about the trade.
If Kenya was a high school, our music would be our marijuana. Each with its own strain of potency. Hits the right spot for every mood. I'm sorry if you're not Kenyan, the spot will never really really hit the way it would hit us. But we're mesmerising. That "marijuana" case in point. Maybe the reason why we struggle to find an ethos is because we are the ethos.
Have a very Kenyan day.
That's the vibe. Who wouldn't wanna be a part of the party? Being a Kenyan is more than citizenship. It's fashionable. It's beautiful. It's humour only we possess and convey with artistic brilliance. Even in our pain, we say we're not boarding. Who wouldn't want to be a Kenyan? Who wouldn't want to forge IDs to be a part of this great nation? A nation that loves to complain and find unity in gossiping about the leaders we hate to love to vote for. And then do it all over again like the abusive relationship it is. If Kenya were a family, our government would be the alcoholic stepfather. Safaricom would be the creepy uncle always praising to put in a good word for a job opportunity if we just wait a little longer for his promotion to open the pearly gates. They switch off the phone on us when we call for a follow-up but we always see that uncle in family gatherings assuring us he's working on it. KCB would be the cousin of your rich uncle who simply was blessed to share the same genes, be in the right place at the right time, and happen to know a thing or two about the trade.
If Kenya was a high school, our music would be our marijuana. Each with its own strain of potency. Hits the right spot for every mood. I'm sorry if you're not Kenyan, the spot will never really really hit the way it would hit us. But we're mesmerising. That "marijuana" case in point. Maybe the reason why we struggle to find an ethos is because we are the ethos.
Have a very Kenyan day.
Comments
Post a Comment