You! Yes you. Kindly get your head out of your sinning pool. I know fits of thirst have already engulfed your throat but unfortunately this post isn’t about the “teei” you know in slang as alcohol. I know its end month and your seat in the office feels like its covered in thumb tacks turned upside down. Money has a way of corrupting the mind. You can hardly sit still wondering how you’ll beat traffic in the shortest time possible to go imbibe in alcohol at Nairobi west and gossip about DJ creme’s unfortunate theatrics as Kenyans on social media prosecute him mercilessly as if they have no dirt underneath their nails. Y’all go ahead and cast stones at a brother. I promise you, come judgment day you’ll have a special jury trove through piles of your sin and murk. The devil will as well as have a special grill for you and as for creme, my heart bleeds for your dearest wife not you.
Not many parents can put up with special kids like me, the devil avoids my kind like plague and I never disappoint him we have an unwritten MOU that he keeps his peace and I’ll keep mine and for years. I’ve managed to keep him off my back and sated. I do not give the devil undue accolades for sins that I commit. He’s never my excuse for he’s never in my head. Am solely responsible for any irresponsibility. Raising my kind requires understanding and tons of patience for am the kind that puts you to test randomly and to test I’ve put “Teei” more than severally.
Growing up with elder sisters is hard work believe you me. Girls are neat, clean and follow simple instructions. They hardly question. They have initiative that surpasses my understanding. I on the other hand am the kind that believes if you never mentioned it then it must be legal so I spent the better part of my childhood turning “Teei’s” world upside down and tried to pull my sisters down gutters while at it but they knew how to side step my idiocy lovingly. “Teei’s” life long partner in sickness and in health was my antidote in huge amounts and he knew how to administer it relentlessly as long as I went searching for it in mischief.
You see the problem with dads is that they have a soft spot for their girls and my dad was no exception. Girls know how to turn fathers into pulp. I’ve never seen my dad lay a hand on my sisters but as for me he lay hands not only a hand. I used to receive beatings at one point I thought I was adopted and at another point I thought I used to receive my sisters share. I never used to understand how we could sin as a team but I would get the end product of the act. The other belt. The belt loved my petite ass and my ass fell in love with the belt during my childhood and from thereon they became inseparable and my dad never ran out of strength. My dad was old school as they come with my generation. A man of limited and calculated words. Always sharply dressed as far as I remember and always on the grind so as to provide. He knew his loving “Teei” had a weak spot for her of spring and she wouldn’t lay a hand on them.
Its only natural for any mother. Mums believe in counselling and he knew I would use that to my fullest advantage and although he was usually away on the hustle when he came he would administer his antidote not in a sparingly manner but his princesses were spared. Growing up amongst girls is hard folks. Real hard. Especially when you’re a necessary nuisance.
“Teei” is a rare name, as rare as they come. Its derived from the Maasai but my maternal grandfather found it befitting for my Mum as her maiden name. It was rare in those days to name outside your community but in her I think he saw something special and yes she was a gem a rare one for that matter. Apart from raising my kind she always gave our well being priority she was always there, always had an answer for my overly inquisitive mind always protective even when other mothers brought her gossip of my not so humane activities in the estate. She knew I was learning, I was growing and at no point did she try hindering me from enjoying my youth but in a guided manner. One if the most treasured parenting skills I learnt from my mum is freedom. Freedom to make mistakes, freedom to make choices and freedom to learn not only from her. With the freedom that we were accorded we learnt that choices have consequences and the more you think you know the less you actually do and that humbles you. Raising teenagers is crazy throw in a teenage son and it gets crazier especially with the dad being on the grind. I think the biggest worry on a parents mind is when a child brings home a child and somehow I kept it in my pants. That’s why I believe in miracles. If some of y’all were accorded my freedom you would have assembled a choir by know. Akukus in the making you are. A slippery and slithery lot. My siblings and I turned out alright over the years thanks to my Mum and my dads belt earlier on.
To date my mum has this power over me that I cannot fathom. She reads my mind like I am teenager allover again. Sometimes I call her from the blues when am troubled and she just listens , I talk a lot of gibberish as I skirt around what’s bothering me but she listens for she knows am avoiding it and all I want is for someone to just listen without retorting back. Sometimes I wish I was ten allover again and when it gets tough I can just go home and cuddle on her bosom. Cry with no questions asked for I know she wouldn’t judge me, she would understand. Its times like this that I miss her terribly and though we have our fair share of fights and misunderstanding she’s always available to listen. Am no mamas boy, I fight my own fights but once in a while I need someone to tell me its okay being knocked down. I need assurance. I need someone to listen. With the current crop of girls that we get entangled with they neither listen nor utter a lot of intelligence apart from fashion but click and retort they can. That they do in copious amounts and that’s when a man needs his mother allover again for only they know how to soothe and aching heart and when not to talk but just listen.
Happiest of birthdays to Teei Imanyara. You’re invaluable, you are treasured. You are loved. In you I find peace that surpasses any girls reasoning. It is because of you that I am. And to my other “mums” that over the years have withstood my trying times and annoying traits and have taken time to would me into what I am, words can never express my gratitude correctly. Loise, Julie, Purity and Mary. You are loved.
Happy birthday Mum.