The reason I write, is to tell you a story,
A story told by my mother to her grandchildren my children,
I remember the time, sometime in 2012
A time during Easter festivals, I visited my lovely mum,
I took the whole family, Left for the countryside to unite with the rest of my family
After the hugs, the feasting, and the laughter,
That is when it all began.
My last born daughter ran to her grandmother who was sitting by the fire.
“Grandma! Please tell us a story,” she asked with glittering eyes.
Everybody as if caught in a silent trap sat down and was all ears…
“My little angel, in the future when am gone.
You shall have a family, you will be married to anybody you choose.
Your life shall be the life we can only dream of to be.
You shall live in any part of this beautiful country,
You shall have different brothers and the proverbial brother from another mother shall come true.
Everyone in your time shall have the same ideas of democracy just as it should be,
Our dreams of the Kenya we want shall come true in your time,
Because we the ones in control are working towards the same.
I do not want you to blame your fathers’ generation saying, “they failed us,
They planted hatred in our minds and now we cannot live in peace.”
I pray that when you get old, you will have time to tell a story to your grandchildren
However, your story shall be different from mine,
It will be like this, “long time ago! the time of my parents
When they were in power, they had jobs, businesses; some of them were poor others were rich.
Nevertheless, they had a common problem.
Whenever they went into general elections, they hated each other because of their ethnic diversity.
They never saw it as potency but rather they saw each other as enemies.
The worst of it all happened in 2007 when this land could not have been any more.
Our parents were deceived and fought against each other; they burned houses, killed and sent away their neighbors.
Some of us never understood why this was happening but we were separated from our friends because they were not our own.
Luckily, we there was a peace accord, but the scars were felt many years after.
I never got the chance to meet my childhood friends.
Nevertheless, that time my parents had learned a lesson; they saw what hatred can do and vowed to make peace.
After five years, I heard that another election was coming in 2013,
I prayed every night to God that whatever happened in 2007 will remain history.
Then we went upcountry and grandma told me a story, she was so inspiring I knew my papa was listening too. The story was told for the sake of his children (us) to live happily ever after.”
Love for Mama Kenya