My dream throughout childhood was to live a good life. A good life, in my definition, was to be in the city for starters, in a good house and driving a good car (or simply driving). Needless to say my dream grew in size and grandeur as I got older, till eventually it included such fantasies as owning a private jet, producing movies, living the life with the best of the best up there, (oh well, a girl is allowed to dream, right?)
Surely there’s nothing wrong with dreaming is there, as long as I keep both my feet on the ground in case the stool underneath topples…? ha ha. For, believe me, dreams are delicate things, with a mind of their own, and they seem to enjoy playing hide and seek with you, as if trying to see just how much you value them, how much you believe in them, how deep your love for them goes. No wonder they only come true for those with an iron will to endure against insurmountable odds, those who prove worthy and able to press on when every ounce of strength is gone, when everything and everyone else is screaming ‘give up!’.
But you know what they say - aim for the stars and you might just hit the moon. So despite the craziness of my dreams, in the process of striving for heaven I’ve been able to soar to a happy height, and I’m sure will soar much further in my lifetime. We’ll just have to see how far I get.
You can imagine how it was for me then, growing up in the countryside while all the time harbouring these dreams. Yet I’m sure millions of other Kenyan children did too. At a very tender age, probably 7yrs or thereabouts, I had a clear plan of attaining my dream. See, I hated work (labour) with a passion, and ‘lazy’ was a word I heard a lot in reference to me. So quite often I would declare for all to hear, ‘When I grow up I’ll marry a Mzungu (a white) and I’ll never have to work again.’ How silly I was. But my family just laughed me off as if to say, ‘dream on baby.’
Eventually I grew wise enough to know my ‘get filthy rich’ formula had to be all mine without being hinged on anyone else, white, black or yellow. Of course I hoped to meet a life partner who had vision so we could stir one another on to achievement, but not so he could be the answer to my dream.
Needless to say then, while I loved my childhood upbringing and had many happy moments, every so often an overwhelming urge to escape the country life engulfed me, and I knew I would, as soon as I was done schooling and had a job. Boarding school was fun though 'coz it was like a little town and there my dream would be highly fanned into flame. The movies, the music, the countless books I read only served to convince me my life was out there, far, far from the dusty, dark and quiet countryside where I was raised. I was in boarding all my high school life, and in a Nairobi school for ‘A’ Level.
So you can imagine my stress when after Sixth Form I went back home awaiting either college or a job, and in the process one of my few friends got me a ‘job’ in a local secondary school – oi! It’s not like I could say no; my parents were over the moon that I now had a job, and, with nowhere else to go I kinda had to take it, all the time plotting how I must leave for Nairobi. I had to find a way to convince dad it was okay for me to live with him in the city while I looked for a job; That wasn’t going to be easy at all. I knew my older sister, already working in Nairobi, could not sustain me, so I had to be very bold or very clever to worm my way into father’s little house.
The daily walk to the school where I now taught was the longest journey of my life. Never mind everything else, this was one of those little community project schools where they seemed to send all the kids who had failed. And it was a far cry from the schools I had attended, or the life I had led, watched and read about for the previous 6 years. The word juxtaposition came to mind, like my dreams were playing a cruel joke on me yet again.
With every passing day the journey grew longer and longer, the road dustier and dustier, my step slower and slower, until eventually I disentangled myself from my current reality, my current plight. My mind was made up. I had reached that point of no return I usually attain when I finally have a breakthrough of vision. Which reminds me of that commercial by Honda that went something like ‘Hate something, change something, make something better’. I loved that commercial because it said exactly what goes through my mind when I reach critical point. I hate the feeling of being trapped, and for better or worse, I’ll do everything possible to free myself. (Mark you I couldn’t do any of it without infinite help from heaven, I’m not the master of my own fate nor captain of my soul, God is). Of course Honda was speaking about its near-magical transformation of the diesel engine.
I remember the words of my friend when I finally told her I was quitting. ‘People who don’t want to be teachers end up becoming frustrated teachers,’ she said. Oh dear… I was appalled. And that was when I knew I was definitely in the wrong place, in the company of people whose dreams not only for themselves but for me as well were horrific to say the least. Somehow they thought they knew who I was and what I wanted in life, and were not afraid to voice it. And I realised then I had to get out and be in the company of people of like mind – always a good idea if you want to achieve anything. I needed to be with people who dared to believe there was more to life.
It’s not teaching that I had issues with, though. Teaching is a noble and fulfilling profession if your heart is in it. It was rather the environment of where I was supposed to be teaching. Simply not inspiring, and not along the highway to my destiny: It was more like a painful detour. The highway to our dreams definitely passes by many stop-overs and drive throughs, but remember the destination. Sometimes we get so tired along the way and decide to settle before the end, or fall in love with some beautiful place along the way. But we must avoid detours, they are likely to be irrelevant. Occasionally God calls us home before the final entrance. But so what? He’s boss, and you never been to a better place than heaven, the ultimate dream – for those headed there….
And so it was that I left the countryside and never looked back. Don’t get me wrong, I do go home often to visit, and I rather enjoy the country scenery and clean air. It will always be my home. But I’m not gonna make it my permanent place of residence – no, no way. If my relationship with the countryside is that of visitor, we will have a long and enduring love. But should I find myself trapped there with nowhere to go…. the love will quickly turn into loathing.
Now, about my dreams. By now you’ve figured the fundamental one was happily fulfilled, I’m snugly settled in my city apartment with all the modern conveniences that make us so addicted to this lifestyle. I have a long way to go though before I even scratch the surface of my ‘out of this world’ dreams. But hey, guess what, I’m reaching heights I never would have hoped to see had I not aimed for the farthest star. And I’m sure so are you, my fellow dreamer….
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