Going Home

Going home for me has always been something i want to do more yet i cant seem to. I live away from my folks all alone in this big bad city while my family lives out of town in Naivasha(silence, clear view of stars and clean air). Thing is this, i end going home after my ma has called to ask what happened to her daughter or after daddy calls to say he is missing me and can i come home? Mostly this trips are split-second decisons where my bags are packed or sometimes not and am off next minute, am knocking at my mom's. I have no idea why i call home my mom's i hardly say am going home i always say am off to ma's.
So in another one of those flashes i packed up on sartuday and was off home. Its only an hour and half to my mom's and after blacking out in the matatu i woke up just in time to say "shukisha hapo kwa bumps" (loosely translated i alight after the bumps).
So i walk in and the door is open so as i walk in my nieces peep and suddenly the "auntie auntie" chants are on. Hugs here and there mostly here and shortly am served with tea (insert KETEPA advert here) talk of great home coming. In comes my nephews as usual auntie umeleta nini(auntie what have you brought)bunch of golddiggers. We sit to talk to my sister who is visiting with my folks, you know the usual how is so and so and the other... Much later my mom pops in , my fave seat is sorta hidden and you have to be all in before you realize that there is someone seating there. More hugs and how have you beens?.Now to my mother i always lose weight, look tired, not eating enough among others. I wonder whether a day is coming when i will have taken care of myself well and added weight etc at this rate never since the same applies to my sisters who are married and away by now.
So jib jib jib then much later my dad, same story different cast. Here we talk soccer( boohoo) he teases me about arsenal losing, worldcup, work, life in general and yeah when am i bringing my friends home(read boyfi) which is loudly echoed by ma who reminds me that so and so's daufghter who got married now has a baby boy(good for her, who cares. After watching the Bold and the Beautiful, Yes, you read right my folks follow ir religiously guess it would happen to anyone who is retired and all ti hi hi with ma telling the story so far filled with he opinion and occasiona expression of disgust at Brook Logan or the other.Ma thinks stephany Forrester is just the bomb ati she fights for her family. We end up talking till late with conversation ranging from family to relatives and everything in between.
Sunday morning, is it just me or have telepreachers increased by a hundred fold i mean any channel you flip there is some preacherman casting demons away, promising hell and brimstone so i choose to sit outside and bask something i never have time for as i sip on my tea and maandazi(not mahamri i know).
Sooner than later we prepare to go to church. My mom still critizes what am wearing at the moment lose the sweater but am cold but nooo lose it so as usual i say yes but dont lose it.This is a big deal for me because i was brought up in this church from back in sunday school days to youth over holiday(what went wrong) plus almost everyone saw me grow up and call most of them by auntie now that they are my mom's girls clique.
Now these are presbyterians, the music is hymnal and then choruses men, the kikuyu songs that eveyone else know except me but i can dance so i proceed with the later.Did i say i chocked on the believer's Creed and had to read it out, but it was in kiswahili (imani ya mitume). Then the children, youth, women's guild then the men's fellowship sing LOL at my dad singing. Now, the sermon is in kyuk you know the full hell and brimstones, couldn't be scarier, then the hugs again now from my million aunties with the same story of you have lost weight and why dont you come home more oft, my mom chirping in the back i have been telling her the same thing... Few daring ones ask when am bring that man home, i smile and say soon... which seems satisfactory for the time being.
Off to sunday lunch which is unspokenly by-law Pilau, more bonding over repeat program of Wrestling RAW is WAR he he he. Around 4pm i figure i must get back so i have to find a way to carry all the goodies(read vegetables and fruits endless)that are meant to fatten me up before the next visit. So after my mom's prayer's for a safe journey and all which i must admit always leave me teary eyed.
Back to my house, alone again...hmmph cant wait to be home again.
AOB
do you remember this:-
Christ is the head of this house,
the unseen guest at every meal
the silent visitor to every conversation