A long holiday calls for interaction with all sans selection. In the name of family ties and society dictations, Uncle Brat is at our home, his late brother's den. This is the zone where the poverty store used to be, until the owner, our sly lazy dad departed with the hated state. Recently, our mother has been so busy in the land and women group savings. This has made our lives better as we have been left to our own devices. Uncle Brat and Dad were extreme contrasts, heaven and hell.
While Dad was a relentless unconcerned deadbeat, Uncle Brat is responsible and enduringly concerned with the particulate details on any deed or idea. Doubtless, we are used to a do as you wish parenting scene. Uncle Brat is therefore our worst nightmare, our greatest pain and worry.
Uncle Brat landed on Saturday. It is unthinkable, even, to imagine that he is here for a month. The night he landed, armed with a 'diiriga mucii' ( 1.5 kg bread) marked his triumphant entry. His main business is to install fatherly roots and he asserted his position as soon as he finished the precious dinner of green mukimo served with the stupid jogoo that has been misleading us on the time to wake. He knows what it means to be a dad,a great uncle. He took my bed and we began quarrels immediately. He can't fathom how a man uses white sheets and full of feminine scents. It took my brother's swearing that no lady tours our cubicle to get him off my back. I have tried to save my sheets by changing and washing them daily, not a good joke. He insists mother should do it as he's a husband by virtue of being Daddy's brother.
Playing low has been mechanically installed. For instance, Jamie called yesterday and Uncle Brat picked. To his utter dismay, he learnt of my nickname, nugu. How could a good old uncle-cum-dad understand how youths have no issue calling each other craziest names?
My phone was not free from creating mountains out of mole hills. Uncle Brat sought an explanation as to why I was holding a girl so close to my body and yet to inform 'them' of plans to wife her. Jenny, my college mate visited this morning and you know ours are not handshakes but firm,tight embrace and a soft peck. Uncle Brat has been sweating and swearing to leave. He wonders how mum has allowed us to wander in the maze of foreign traits.
Uncle Brat is uncomfortable with the boys doing kitchen work. What he's not aware is that mum rarely visit the cooking chamber. He is so disappointed that food he's expected to take is prepared by his nephews.
The greatest pain he has suffered is attempting to unravel the content of my mini library,he has made a call to the pastor and the chairman Nyumba Kumi for a special counsel to the 'lost sheep'. The covers are scary, titles embarrassing,content disgusting. I am set to be buried alive or cremated before resting. How on earth can one be reading a series of texts whose content is only vulgarity, penetration and revolution?
Uncle Brat is not too keen on media and technology.Our gadgets are demons. His keenness and discipleship are accorded to prayers before meals and bedtime.
It's the third day since he landed, and the imagination that he has twenty seven more days is the best motivation. If he doesn't speed up his departure, I just may die prematurely.
#Nomys_Madness
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