Our childhood was ‘flavoured’ with kashata and Goody Goody

Last week, my childhood friend, Joshua ‘Josh’ Rutuna, posted something on Facebook that almost left me in tears. That was a big deal because I only shed tears when yawning or during a rib-cracking performance.

Josh lived in Buru West. He was taller than us, more handsome, and had a neat Afro hairdo. I suspect he always carried a wooden comb to ensure there was no hair out of place.

We rarely interacted with Josh much while in primary school. He was quiet and reserved, and came from a Christian family — he was quite prayerful. We only started communicating at the Catholic centre’s basketball court.

Josh sold me my first high-top fancy basketball sneakers. I have these big feet — and often had a hard time getting fitting shoes. Luckily, I was in secondary school and was thus entitled to a pair of free Converse sneakers.

This was what Josh wrote on Facebook:

“I grew up in Buru Buru Phase 2, House No.69, at a time when everyone treated each other like family. We went outside to play, we got dirty... we bought balloon za kuwin number lol!

“We played mkebe, brikicho, bladder, three sticks, kalongo, baano, gwash, shake, ludo, roundas, kamare and futa. We ate mapera, mabuyu, sukari nguru, kashata, ice za bob, Goody Goody, koo, chipo mwitu na pasua — not to forgetting mutura lol! We often played barefoot! We went hunting with feyaa and chuvyu, we weren’t afraid of anything. If you fell down, you would just get back up, and didn’t tell our parents what happened.

We challenged each other everywhere. If someone had a fight, that’s what it was... a fight. Kids weren’t afraid of fake guns when I was growing up.

“We left our houses as soon as we could in the morning and right after school till our names were yelled out as a reminder to get into the house at nightfall.

“If one kid was called for dinner, we all knew it was time to go home. We rode our bikes without helmets, through alleys to secret places — and sat around telling ghost stories.

“We even went swimming (duf mpararo) together. We took care of one another; we treated each other fair, there was no favouritism. We had fun. We watched our mouths around our elders because we knew if we disrespected any adult, there would be a price to pay. We were well-mannered and respectful because crossing the line meant your parents would put you in your place.

“Hold your finger down to copy and paste. Please re-post with your area if you’re proud of and will never forget where you came from!”

From this post, you can tell our mothers were Dettol mums. We were thrown into the deep end and let to survive unlike the ‘mahewa generation,’ who are treated with kids’ gloves. We were survivors. This made us street smart and responsible adults - the reason we usually say your best friends are the ones you grew up with. These other friends we meet along the way are not genuine. Most are hobby friends, drinking buddies and workmates out to milk your social status. I visited my childhood home last month for nostalgic purposes. I sat outside the gate for nearly one hour. I watched children going in and out to play. Memories flooded, stretching 30 years back, when we, the Ojiambos — my sisters Rebecca, Helen and I - lived there. Like Josh, I am a proud child of Buru Buru Phase 2 House Number 720!