Things that happen in the village that have no place in the city

The concrete jungle, the city in the sun, the fabled Nairobbery, the city where a prospective resident (a typical villager) is briefed in advance lest they unknowingly buy the city clock, and most importantly the city with everyone’s dream. Every aunt and uncle takes their time to dish out the dont's of the city, real or imagined. I had a fair share of this when I came this city of ours, dragged from the village by the quest of quenching my thirst for education. For that matter, I have never been conned except by touts who forcefully kept change, and never been arrested by a kanjo.

Largely confined to students’ halls of residence owing to my reluctance to fall victim of Nairobi’s ever alert hunters, I didn’t experience the life that would make me appreciate the wholesomeness of a village life, beyond the serene environment. Snuffed out of the hostel by circumstances that a busy body would have no problem blaming the government or that shrill ‘serikali tafadhali saidia’ I found myself navigating my boat through the murky waters that is residential apartments. I do recall how students who hailed from the urban cities made the urban life so alluring that we almost cursed why we were brought in the village. Well, we are here now and all we want do is go back to the village, only if we could carry our jobs with us. Here are my reasons.