When I am an old woman

By Tricia Wanjala

I recently came across one of my favourite poems from my school days by the poet Jenny Joseph. It begins with the word "Warning"...

Warning: when I am an old woman I shall wear purple

with a red hat that doesn’t go and doesn’t suit me

...I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired

and gobble up samples in shops

and press alarm bells...

and make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in

the rain

and pick the flowers in other

people’s gardens.

And learn to spit...

It ends with the poet deciding that she should perhaps start practicing now so that when she gets old and suddenly starts wearing purple, people won’t be too shocked.

Which made me realise the wry irony of the poem — old people can get away with just about anything. I remember my great aunt, the local "Margaret Thatcher" in the village. She was a real termagant, and would proverbially ‘squash beer cans on her head and chew broken glass.’ Men quaked when she entered and when she spoke, people listened. We feared her and admired her all at the same time — a woman of substance and authority. I suppose part of what made her so daunting was her age; you couldn’t dare rebuke her or talk back.

Or what about the true story of our buddy’s crack-head grandma. His father would send him as a boy to take her milk daily, with the warning, "Don’t stop. You run home immediately." In the short pause whereby she would decant the milk and return the container, he was fascinated by her small nyungu that was ever steaming. A long straw came from it to her mouth and as she sat on the stool he’d hear "Kuff, kuff kuff twaff! Kuff, kuff, kuff twaf!" In other words, the sound of her sucking the bhang and spitting it out.

No meat

Not to be left out is my great grandmother who lived close to 100 years. By then she was frail, had no teeth, and couldn’t see well. But her temper was as fiery as ever. When food was served to her, she would poke it with her fingers and feel around the plate. If she found no meat, woe to the person who had brought it. The plate would be unceremoniously flung at them, the message being in no uncertain terms to refill it with meat. When round two came she’d carefully suck all the juice out of the pieces of meat, before spitting them out. Oh, and don’t you dare bring her vegetables. She didn’t eat that stuff — her diet consisted of her mandatory two beers, meat and starch. See there? The secret to longevity: Meat and beer. I would not have believed it, had I not seen it with my own eyes.

It seems everybody has a story to tell about a strong family matriarch who could get away with anything. From gun-toting drunken cucus, to those who habitually bring up stories of bathroom escapades at the dinner table: "I took this laxative and it worked really well, boy it cleaned me out..... (complete with sound effects)" to hilarious ‘Special’ grannies who have a knack for saying the wrong thing at the right time. A famous movie shows a big white-haired old lady teaching a young lady how to pour hot grits on her abusive husband. The message to me is that "when I am an old woman, I’ll be able to get away with anything!" That is definitely something to look forward to.

For now the question is, whatever happened to sweet toothless bespectacled old ladies who sit quietly on the rocking chair, knitting booties? I guess the so-called dot.com generation of today’s kids has an equally dot.com generation of grandmas. I wonder what we will be like when it’s our turn!