by Marion J. Onchagwa
Ever heard a song called ‘Yesu nitie nguvu nimalize mwendo salama’ (Jesus give me strength to finish the journey safely)? If you have never, I must let you know that you are the blessed of the earth. Don’t ask me why, at least not yet. Just stay with me for a while. As the title suggests, it is a song that a person looks for when they are at their wit’s end, and they realise that life needs more fortitude than they imagined. It is a song I had to look for this evening when I got back home from the office because today showed me that I need divine strength.
See the thing is, earlier today the co-founder of the Firm decided to take us, the pupils, out for lunch. We had reported to the office a week prior. Many would say it is memorable when the Senior Partner takes pupils out for lunch, and it very much is. Only that, I will remember this lunch for various reasons.
The previous day when I heard the news that we’d be having lunch with the Firm’s co-founder, I thought; yeah! Lunch with Prof Githu Muigai, EGH, SC! I took it as a sign from my ancestors that I was on the right path. It felt like one of those days in primary school when I would report noisemakers and the teachers would tell me, “If you continue like this, you will go far in this life!” It was great news. So great that it renewed my commitment to the legal profession. My path had never been clearer!
The man I’d be watching through our long-serving Gratewall solar-powered black and white television was going to have lunch with me! Well, other pupils were going to be present but I was focusing on the main points only. And the main point was, I was going to have lunch with Prof Githu Muigai, EGH, SC!
The lunch was to be at some hotel I had never heard about. The name of the hotel sounded like one of those hotels that had furniture which looked like parts of trees, and décor comprising medium-sized green plants placed in some interesting pots. I hear it’s called having ‘ambiance’. In the village, we just plant trees and plants in the soil, in farms outside houses. But in the City, they have trees and plants inside buildings. That fascinates me. But again, not the main point. The main point was; I was having lunch with Prof Githu Muigai EGH, SC!
So at lunchtime, we all marched to the hotel. At this point, I should reveal that I am as new as a razor in this sun-filled city called Nairobi. I am fresh-out-the-village. So fresh-out-the-village that the avocados and mangoes I had carried from the village when I travelled to the City were still in pristine condition. Even the kales I carried were also still unwilted, without refrigeration!
My village had been my only home and my village mates had been my only family. I am one of those people whose village was both happy and sad to see off to University. They had to hold a farewell and a thanksgiving ceremony before I could go. You would think I was going to study at a university in Nairobi or another big city. But the big deal was, I was leaving the village. Let me not talk about my graduation because that will be a long story and now that I am a pupil at Mohammed Muigai LLP, I don’t have the time to tell long stories. My seniors have informed me that I need to be precise!
Even so, I will tell you that I hated being in big cities. My problem with big cities began with the buildings; they are too tall! Excessively tall! In the village, the tallest building is a five-storey building located at the shopping center. The best part about that building is that no one lives there, we only go there to shop when we need to, as should be the purpose of tall buildings.
In fact, my village chief once visited the city and observed that it seemed, city people forgot that the reason we have so many languages is because some people were building a skyscraper called the Tower of Babel, which annoyed the Deity, and He punished them with confusion and many languages. It was chaos that day in Babel, all because people were putting up tall structures. Yet people in Nairobi keep building tall buildings! Human beings never learn!
With all these scorn for the City, you may be wondering why I applied to be a pupil at a law firm located in the City. To be honest, I didn’t think much about the firm’s location. I just wanted to learn from the place that trained many of the great advocates that I knew or knew about. Reality hit me when a friend asked me if I had identified an apartment in Nairobi. That day I cried because I realised I would be leaving my village, to go co-exist with tall buildings and people who have no problem with tall buildings.
But what had to be done, had to be done. So I moved to the City a week before pupillage began. This was my third week in the city, and I was having lunch with Prof Githu Muigai, EGH, SC, at a hotel in Nairobi, that was located in a tall building.
As we settled in the hotel, a waiter asked us what we’d prefer between still water, sparkling water, and other types of water that I hope nobody expects me to remember. At that moment, I was shocked to learn that there were classifications of drinking water outside of dirty water and clean water. I knew for sure that under clean water, there was boiled water and treated water. I could also wager that all clean water should be sieved before storage. So I guess the other classification should be sieved water. But ‘still’ and ‘sparkling?’ I was awed by the discovery!
I was still trying to grapple with the idea of variations of clean drinking water when I realised I was the only one wondering what was going on. Some people were already commenting about how they don’t like sparkling water, and they proceeded to explain why they preferred still water. So, not only had they heard about these types of water, but they had also drunk them? And not only had they drunk them, but they already had a preferred type! Damn! I knew I was from the village but I did not realise the situation was this dire!
Then someone declared, “We will take still water!” The waiter wasted no time, he was back with the still water. Life seemed to move on swiftly as he served the water and everyone took their sips. I put my shock aside to remember that I was having lunch with Prof Githu Muigai EGH, SC. So I decided to focus on that fact, after all, it was the main point!
Soon after serving us with still water and taking our orders, the waiter served us food. The cutlery on everyone’s table was folks and knives. So I waited for the spoons, believing that I didn’t need to ask for them since no one else had them and so they would be brought automatically. But none came, and no one said anything about the lack of spoons. I even started to wonder if the hotel had run out of spoons, or, if all the spoons were being cleaned and would take time to be ready. I knew those were possibilities because in the village, my cousin ran a hotel, and spoons would sometimes be scarce because they were being cleaned or had just run out. So, I tried to sympathise with the hotel.
I quickly realised spoons would not be brought when the people seated next to me said ‘Bon Appetit’ and began eating without waiting for spoons or reminding the waiter to bring them. Everyone was doing just fine. I silently wondered, “Do city people know they have free will and they don’t have to live like this?”
So people began eating (without spoons), as Prof Githu Muigai SC, EGH, engaged us on various topics. To my delight, the good Professor was a great and chucklesome conversationalist. I confirmed the rumors that he has a sense of humor! I had heard about those rumors from my University Lecturers, some of whom were his former students. I was only happy to confirm that my Lecturers were honest.
I was even more delighted to witness that the firm Partners who had accompanied him (Mr Geoffrey Imende, Mr Gabriel Mwangi, and Ms Naomi Wangari) were jocular. I was particularly thrilled to learn that they too, could laugh. After days of giving us serious guidance on the firm culture, values, and excellence in legal practice, it was revitalising to confirm that they had 32 visible teeth!
I must have been laughing at one of the jokes being told at the table when a waiter decided to ask me if I’d have mango chutney. I immediately went back to wondering when we got to this point as a human race. In my wonder, all I could think of was how I didn’t understand how there was a type of mango called ‘chutney’. As a mango farmer back in the village, I am not new to mangoes. I thought I knew a lot about them. I thought mangoes could either be ripe or unripe. I knew raw mangoes were mostly green in colour but ripe mangoes had diversity in their colours. In my many years of loving mangoes, I had never heard about the chutney type.
I quickly surveyed around and realised, I was the only one wondering, yet again. I was up the creek without a paddle! I believe it is a moment such as this that made my grandmother permanently move out of the City back in 1950, and dedicate her remaining years on earth to warning her lineage against going to the City.
My last straw was when we walked back to the office, and not even one of my fellow pupils spoke about any of the issues that were crippling my mind regarding the Hotel. No one spoke about the variations of water, the missing spoons, the modification of mangoes, or anything at all! That meant that everyone else was familiar with the City culture and nobody would relate to me. That’s when I realised I was in dire straits! I surely needed strength to keep surviving in this strange City.
So this evening when I got to my apartment which is located on the 7th floor of a big building, and where I live against my will, I sought comfort in the song ‘Yesu nitie nguvu nimalize mwendo salama’ (Jesus give me strength to finish the journey safely). Because I realised that in as much I was strong enough to leave the village in pursuit of my dreams, I needed more strength if I was to continue pursuing them in the City!