A friend of mine has just reminded me that I was supposed to do a story on my hilarious childhood. Truth be told I have been pretty occupied with my current state of affairs that I had even forgotten that I was meant to do such a story. I have tried recapping what was going through my mind at that time but am not coming up with anything...so anyways straight to the Agenda of the day..
I was in a mat the other day and I heard these two ladies talk about how their childhood was fun and how they used to do all these gisty Nairobi type events, chill at the Village Market and the Splash and I was left wondering where the hell did I grow up!!None the less, my childhood was far less from uneventful, far far from it.
Now that we have already established that I am not a city girl, and that I only physically saw a Mall when I first came to Nairobi, I will proceed on to tell you how my growing up affected me and somewhat made me the woman I am today. Here goes a lot of monkey balls!!! Have you ever woken up and found your head bald with no hair? Well I have! Just go with the flow, FYI no pair of scissors were involved!
I had magnificent hair...long, flowy, thick with just the right kind of curls,not too tight and nappy, not too loose and droopy....Just tight enough to get jealous women and children staring at me. And its a if my mum knew what was going on because she would adorn my hair with the prettiest little jewels and let me walk around the estate to show off and boy was I a poser! (I learned the value of fake friends through this hair) AND THE PLOT THICKENS.....
I used to get invited to a lot of weddings as a child-Must have been the hair- and I went with pride...until this fateful day when everything decided to go south for me! I had just come from a wedding in Nairobi (I earned groupies from this incident) and as usual I went into the settling -down- back- to -shags routine. So at night my mum came into my room, helped me take my bath and routinely started combing my hair, her pride and joy, as she was preparing me for bed! Only this time something was not right! The mane was falling off like you not believe!
In a frenzy, she stopped combing it and lay me to bed- she was probably going to ponder on the events of yonder (gerrit? Ponder, yonder? Oh forget it!). The next morning,the mane was gone! all of it! With only traces little burned marks being left behind!...My fate was sealed, I started believing witch craft existed!
Doctor after doctor, cream after cream, one rejection notice from a friend after another still nothing! all I had to show was the burned shiny head and a lot of sneering stares from those women and girls who used to once stare at me with admiration!It broke my heart as a child. It is then I got to learn lesson #1 about life: Life if difficult..being fugly does not help either!!
Then at the moment of utter sheer disillusionment,a herbalist came to my rescue (I am sure the two ladies in the mararu who hang out at the Village Market would gasp at this *ari what now?* and snap their fake nailed fingers. Come to think of it, Village Market rhymes with Village or something like that...I have just acquired bragging rights too MUHAHAHA) OK back to the main issue.
She prescribed nothing short of the unmentioned, daily dosed of crushed leaves spread on my head every morning and evening until signs of hair started showing! What I have just left out is that, these leaves smelled like rotten eggs combined with sewage and all the not- so- pleasant smells you can think of right now! And I had to sit through class like that...All the popularity I had worked to hard to build just plummeted before my eyes and I remained with a loyal friend whose name started with a NYA and ended with KEVAVA (Read the V's as BH's)
I was a lonely child! Not to worry though, ALL that hair grew back and am sure if those women saw me now the would not know what hit 'em. Oh and lesson #2. The friends with the weird names will always stick by you! OK seriously...what does not kill you makes you stronger!
Till later Muchachos :)
I was in a mat the other day and I heard these two ladies talk about how their childhood was fun and how they used to do all these gisty Nairobi type events, chill at the Village Market and the Splash and I was left wondering where the hell did I grow up!!None the less, my childhood was far less from uneventful, far far from it.
Now that we have already established that I am not a city girl, and that I only physically saw a Mall when I first came to Nairobi, I will proceed on to tell you how my growing up affected me and somewhat made me the woman I am today. Here goes a lot of monkey balls!!! Have you ever woken up and found your head bald with no hair? Well I have! Just go with the flow, FYI no pair of scissors were involved!
I had magnificent hair...long, flowy, thick with just the right kind of curls,not too tight and nappy, not too loose and droopy....Just tight enough to get jealous women and children staring at me. And its a if my mum knew what was going on because she would adorn my hair with the prettiest little jewels and let me walk around the estate to show off and boy was I a poser! (I learned the value of fake friends through this hair) AND THE PLOT THICKENS.....
I used to get invited to a lot of weddings as a child-Must have been the hair- and I went with pride...until this fateful day when everything decided to go south for me! I had just come from a wedding in Nairobi (I earned groupies from this incident) and as usual I went into the settling -down- back- to -shags routine. So at night my mum came into my room, helped me take my bath and routinely started combing my hair, her pride and joy, as she was preparing me for bed! Only this time something was not right! The mane was falling off like you not believe!
In a frenzy, she stopped combing it and lay me to bed- she was probably going to ponder on the events of yonder (gerrit? Ponder, yonder? Oh forget it!). The next morning,the mane was gone! all of it! With only traces little burned marks being left behind!...My fate was sealed, I started believing witch craft existed!
Doctor after doctor, cream after cream, one rejection notice from a friend after another still nothing! all I had to show was the burned shiny head and a lot of sneering stares from those women and girls who used to once stare at me with admiration!It broke my heart as a child. It is then I got to learn lesson #1 about life: Life if difficult..being fugly does not help either!!
Then at the moment of utter sheer disillusionment,a herbalist came to my rescue (I am sure the two ladies in the mararu who hang out at the Village Market would gasp at this *ari what now?* and snap their fake nailed fingers. Come to think of it, Village Market rhymes with Village or something like that...I have just acquired bragging rights too MUHAHAHA) OK back to the main issue.
She prescribed nothing short of the unmentioned, daily dosed of crushed leaves spread on my head every morning and evening until signs of hair started showing! What I have just left out is that, these leaves smelled like rotten eggs combined with sewage and all the not- so- pleasant smells you can think of right now! And I had to sit through class like that...All the popularity I had worked to hard to build just plummeted before my eyes and I remained with a loyal friend whose name started with a NYA and ended with KEVAVA (Read the V's as BH's)
I was a lonely child! Not to worry though, ALL that hair grew back and am sure if those women saw me now the would not know what hit 'em. Oh and lesson #2. The friends with the weird names will always stick by you! OK seriously...what does not kill you makes you stronger!
Till later Muchachos :)
Wow V , I never knew that .by the way I really love your blog :) Michelle x
ReplyDeleteThanks hun,keep reading :*...Now you know :)
ReplyDelete