jubilation

Last week was full of tension and anxiety,political debates business of the week and come Friday i could take it no more. I packed a few personal stuffs and a change of clothes and like majority of nairobians i got into a matatu 146 Gatundu and headed to the up country; just to enlight you if 146 Gatundu doesn’t click in you mind, Gatundu is the home town of the president elect His Excellency Uhuru Kenyatta which also happens to be my home town, but do i say!
I got home okay and just like any other place in the country the tension was there. A little bit of jubilation since our “home town boy” was leading and lots of hope in his victory. I remember dad walking in the house saying that lunch the following day will be served at mama Ngina’s place and mum replying to him that he would be to late because dawn would find her already at mama Ngina ‘s if Uhuru be announced as the winner during the night . As we retired to bed that night “our boy” was leading and we had no doubt he would bring the presidency back home but it was to early to celebrate.

I was drifting into a dream when my sister’s voice cut into it.”Wake up, wake up people are screaming an shouting outside, ” It took me a second to register where i was and what was happening. I jumped out of bed grabbed a leso which my sister was conveniently handing to me,woke my parents and turned on the TV. There it was he had done it on the first round.We all got out from ridge to ridge we heard the screams and shouts of joy. I got a whistle from my cousin and i joined in, my dad dashed in the house and set the alarm on, my mother could not understand how our neighbor could still be asleep and she went to wake her up.”Let’s go to the shopping center we will meet more people there,” I said. I was wrong there were no people. “Drive around the center with music on turn it loud and we will get people out.”mum told dad and to my amazement he did exactly that. Within five minutes we had a crowd dancing to John Demathew’s music coming from dad’s car. Women, men, kids we all danced.The mizizi factory workers with their work aprons joined us too and we danced. It was settled we were going to Icaweri,Mama Ngina’s place,we would walk, dance and sing all the to Icaweri. We said a prayer and started of our walk ,it was dark but our eyes had adapted to the dark, It was cold but my body was already sweating from the dancing. By the time we got to Gatundu our crowd had increased in numbers i could not locate my mother but i new she was somewhere. The new people who joined us brought with them new energy that kept us walking and dancing and singing, after an hour of walking we arrived light was slowly diffusing into the darkness, many more people were already at Icaweri dancing and singing. We had all gone there with one aim celebration and we did celebrate the best way we new how to.More people arrived,lorries came loaded with people and returned for more,the road was blocked, journalists had a field day capturing the jubilation. We sang and danced. A mother reminded her daughter of cows at home waiting to be milked,a young man tried to find her way amongst the crowd a vuvuzela in his mouth,a police Jeep stood in the middle of the road no where to go,twigs were held up high in the air. I looked around me this day i would always remember, this day i would narrate to my kids and my grandchildren.We danced till we could dance no more but a ever one person who left a lorry full arrived. I went in search for my mother,we had to get home and that’s when the reality hit us,we were miles away from home,hungry and tired but as we held each others had for the long walk back home, we agreed on something it was all worthwhile,the joy we felt and the victory we shared with people across the country.