I realised it was getting late, very late,,but I was ignorantly waiting still for a waking yelll from my Mum. Thursday morning it was, it began with unusual heavy fall accompanied with tremendous hails that threatened to pierce throught the rickety roof of ours. I knew mum was already up because her heavy blanket was already lieing folded on rusty spring.
A strong and sure ray of yellow light escaped through a leakage on our roof and splitted with drops that fell through,Time was really moving fast.It was then that I realised Mr.Momanyi was to check on the three-day project of germination. Presumptuously his steady voice, sharp vocals and hasty moves forced me out of bed undecided.Jumping down the woody double spring I almost fell. I splashed right in water that had already filled the floor quarter way only to be stopped by mum who asked me step up to avoid chills. Actually it was normal, growing up in Mabuyu slums around the L.Victoria basin it forced for adaption.However growing older and older it was becoming even abnormal of such floods.
I have tried but it will never escape me,the twenty first day of June two thousand and ten. The tensions that grew from without,the floating hens and soaky blankets,the drowning innocent kids that new nothing of climate change,the climbing cats and men up on poles,,, I implicitly cannot build up each scene, the heavy weight of trauma are still weighing me down, though young and little-knowing it was carried to this day.
I vividly recall stepping up on a rescue boat that was staggering on water of the heavy load.Across the polluted Street the helicopters were landing on the raised dumping sites wetting our faces with a heavy and smelly thudding.
Thanks be to God, I closed my eyes to say glory be to the father..We were ready settled at our citadel- the renowned Blessed Luigi Tezza School. The crying babies, the rowdy youths and staring children enveloped the scene into a Ukrainian disaster. The flying nets and candles across the air invited that painful night. Supper was not available that day, I could not believe it. No space was left for crying amidst that evening cold, soon I had joined my two brothers in caring for Nyaboke our young baby who was our last born in a family of single parenthood. Her frequent wails seemed to fill my empty stomach.
As darkness intensified and candles lit up a thief showed up.Running fast with a shopping bag I saw him jumping towards the other end of the room. It was then that a group of men jumped over us in full pursuit. What followed was unbelievable, hefty blows and kicks that left the man in excruciating pain. At that moment many had gathered around the scene to witness that incidence. Ooh ,,I could not just believe it, the young man was trying to escape with some food staff belonging to a family in the camp. When I first looked at his face he seemed very desperate.His attire consisted of a smoky shirt and an old short leaving, his dusty legs supported by the frozen feet. “This man must be among the street families living in town..”an old man confirmed the mob drawing away from the scene.
Our schooling in such an environment was affected much with climate change and poverty that was demeaning our potential to a greater degree. Luckily the government was considering a few
of us for scholarships. This was becoming a bit difficult amidst corruptregime at that time. Even so, when a student was lucky enough to have the scholarship he would show his strength by genius excellence in Secondary education.
Being one of the beneficiaries, I had really thanked God for the providence and swared to burn the midnight oil. The challenges were enormous during the April holidays. Our books were rampantly being carried by water, some flown to extinction while others we would dry in the sun formless.
It was while at Elimu high school that I first came across the term ‘Climate change’. The geography discussions I had on the subject was understood beyond class so much that I actively kept the community aware on how to restore our climate back. It was indeed a passion growing in me; pushing me along the shelves to have the nitty gritty of the crucial subject. What disheartened me was a common chorus in the shelves,,Through emissions and destruction, our future is explicitly nowhere mapped for prosperity. Checking on case studies of Europe, demonstrations pushed for reduced emissions the West embracing electric cars; it was becoming cancer!
The visit of Her excellency Natasa Pirc the sitting president of Slovenia was of great significance to us. Her speech at Jomo kenyatta University few weeks ago had disturbed african block.. She stated that all continents a part from Africa jointly emmmits eighty percent of the harmful Carbon(iv)Oxide. I was perplexed to see senior people assume the weight of such a remark. I could not just believe it.. though our country is between the pricking thorns . The climatic riots by our young people against environmental pollution should begin right in Africa, time is running fast. The unusual flood in west Africa should be sending shockwaves to the East to greatly take care of the threatening heat waves.
In my country Kenya we youths are ready to sacrifice our own lives for any unfavouring financial bills, I believe my pen will convince few to stay concerned of our future Planet. As long as the legacy of Professor Wangari still smells sour we must do it through pen to make it give a sweet smell. Its just a mater of time. In her master piece ‘Replenishing the Earth’ the future matters a lot than even the industries we cry for, all this fact lies in her words ,,,”If we do not take care of our environment we are destroying our own future“
…Listen Africa
When my mouth is shut with tension, My pen and paper are ready to mention, Though not sure who shall have a look The winds are there to blow it vast
From the bottom of my heart I give thanks, Though poverty and hunger still cover africas, Few floods in the south and central droughts, My pen must be there to speak restorations
Wake up mother Africa before it burn,
Greece had the test in Mediterranean, Some tried with umbrellas and water, All were just for a moment then it cover
Listen Africa as the pen speaks, Gen Zii up with climate banners, Our future is more than maces, Ooh, Africa listen as the pen speaks