What is in a song? Over the years, certain songs have influenced and had a major cultural and political impact on societies and served as catalysts that brought widespread change and defined historic moments. Kenya has its fair share of songs that helped define its national image and introduced the Kenyan sound to a global audience.
The Kenyan hall of fame contains Fadhili Williams,Malaika, Daudi Kabaka’s Harambee, Harambee, Them Mushrooms, “Jambo Bwana, Ayub Ogada’s Koth Biroand Eric Wanaina’s “Nchi ya Kitu Kidogo”. They were songs associated with patriotism, a new identity, safe to some degree even as they pushed musical talent to new heights but in 1997, 20 years ago, one song emerged that would radically change Kenya’s urban music scene forever.
Now, on the subject of farming, I can hold my own. Hand me a piece of land and some rainfall and I will be capable of growing food. Farming is one of my gifts. I have a deep connection with the soil.
Owning a pair green fingers is a big deal in this finger twitching, tech savvy, digital generation. I know more people than I care to count who are incapable of tending to a basic houseplant. Leave a plant in their care and consider it dead.
I love trees. As a kid, I would climb them, explore them as though they were an elaborate labyrinth of branches. Trees were treated like personal friends, always ready to play. I would find resting spots, where I could just chill, places to hide, places to play and branches to swing off inspired by Tarzan, the white monkey man. Many a time, we just sat, up there, killing boredom and doing absolutely nothing else.
There were trees in Nairobi where we lived, off Ngong Road. A big tree that had ridges on its trunk burrowed by industrious termites. It had vantage top branches with steady places to perch and hang loose. My brother and I spent a lot of time up there.
That is how long forgotten school mates start conversations. The phrase is supposed to be a compliment. It means one has retained the same appearance despite the poor eating habits, lack of exercise and an assortment of adapted poisons that became part of the staple diet with the loss of innocence. To retain the same appearance after three decades can only be a good thing. The effects of parenting and middle age can take a toll on one’s looks, I kid you not.
I had recently reconnected with a friend online, who I had not seen nor heard from in almost 30 years.
Kennedy Obiero, JaDunga is a guy I went to primary school with in Kisumu at M.M.Shah where I did my final two years of primary school. M.M.Shah was part of a small cluster of Indian founded schools that included Arya, Bhayani, Aga Khan and Xavier (which had Goan roots). My parents believed that if you wanted to pass exams, you went to an Indian manned school because they were unrivaled in mathematics.
I had lost connection with the school’s alumni, save for a small clique of about 5 friends that I remained in contact with since the late 80s.
