There is nothing that excites my soul compared to receiving news regarding the success of a woman. This is simply because that means one step ahead. One more role model who has broken the glass ceiling. When Rebecca Miano was appointed the Managing Director and Chief Executive Officer at KenGen last year on the 1st of November, I would tweet about it and talk about the same the whole week. Do you know what that means? Being a woman in the energy sector? She was the first female C.E.O in the history of KenGen. My friends would even inquire if I know her in person.
23/12/2015 at exactly 6:30pm.
After being enthralled by the splendid sunset going down at around 6:00pm, my little sister and I decided we should get back home. Our “press conference” scheduled at 6:30pm was almost due and we were all set. We got home ten minutes earlier; thus able to set up the meeting area. The laptop was connected to the projector and presentation on power point opened. I was the moderator, well, because I am the calm one and wouldn’t lash out in case we got a negative response from our investors (read parents). The agenda of the meeting was to discuss about Christmas clothes and shoes. Long, long time ago, in the house of Nakurro, we would enjoy putting on new clothes and shoes on 25th and 31st of December, as well as the 1st of the new year. Guess what? Not any more. I cannot explain how that came to an end. The same way I cannot explain how our domestic worker left and now we have to do all the house chores.
Anyway, we addressed the issue in full confidence. We even reminded them that we love them and were grateful for all they had done. Using statements like “We know it’s not easy to raise kids like us; at times we are stubborn but best believe it that we try to be good. We portray our best behaviour just as you have taught us our dear parents…”
We tried our level best to restore the lost glory, traditions we threw under the bus and acted as if they never existed. As if they did not mean anything. It is not fair.
My mum clears her throat. This is not a good sign. My dad feigns a smile. I take a step back, shut down the power point presentation and a for a second, highly regret why I partook in organizing the meeting. I want to say, “Never mind dear parents. That was just a short skit. We simply wanted to prove to you guys that we have other talents like acting.”
Buddy, yes you. You and I are the best definition of failure. We are the best descriptions of tools that have forsaken their creator and tried to define their purpose by standards that suit them. That is simply what we are. You and I are a disgrace to the community, male society and worst of all, the body of Christ.
I propped up against the pillows while sitting on my bed, ready to recite the night prayer. I then imagine I should pull myself together and confess to this Supreme invisible Being since I will not have the audacity to do that behind that small-holed cardboard at the confession room in Church. This will be among the many sins I hold back every time I go for confession; I tell myself. You see, the confession prayer concludes as follows “….and for those sins that I may have forgotten to mention, I pray that the Lord may have mercy.” So, technically, that will be among the sins I forgot to mention.
Memories of what