By Victor Jawaseda:
Tonight I want to use as topic of my discussion, my life in Siaya.
Siaya for those who do not know is a nice land in the sunset direction of the sweet land called Kenya. In my local birthplace it is referred to as Alego. Or better still “Alego tat yien” (Alego wooden roofs).For those who cared to listen to the tunes of Musa Juma, it is Siaya Kababa. Enough of the introduction
For a typical village boy, born and raised in the lakeshores along the great Lolwe, I had rarely visited Bondo, the nearest town that had tarmacked road back then, for either the failure of the government, neglect or both. The only time I went to Bondo in non-academic affairs was when I visited my maternal grandma’s place at Ndira, a few kilometers past Opoda.
Life was enjoyable at my home place. When we heard of Alego, it was a story of great medicine men with miraculous ablity even to punish thieves and criminals. The people of Alego took part in a perfectly bilateral trade with the people of Sakwa. They brought along with them such goodies as cassava and potatoes in the morning. I must make it clear that I hated two meals accompanying breakfast, one was cassava, and the other is of course pumpkin. The Alego guys took smoked fish and omena back to their native land.
At times, we shout at them, “jo oringi! Jo oringi!” One time they would go without response, another time they could also hurl insults back at us. The kind of insults that age and morals would not privilege me to quote.
The year was 1999. I had just sat my KCPE exams. To most of us sitting the yellow papers meant what circumcision means to the maasai morans. We were the top of the village. Even the discos that the headmaster abhorred either by choice or by the virtue of his position, the discos became legal. We would after supper attend several of the free of charge post burial entertainment dubbed, disco matangas
My mum had been an obligate disciplinarian. I never enjoyed the benefits of fishing because it was even a crime to think of it. By sitting the class eight exams, I guess my mum thought it wise to take a slightly back seat on her watch, key word is slight. So in her own wisdom, she thought of sending me to her sister in Siaya. I think maybe she feared I would lose focus in life due to new found freedom.
The thought of going to Siaya both made me sad and joyful. I was sad because I was to forfeit the natural bond I had with fellow villagers, loyal friends I had since birth and the sweet life we enjoyed along the shores of Victoria. The swimming sessions. Football tournaments between Wichlum and Oyamo. The list is long.
I was glad because of the anxiety to experience change. Even if the change meant venue. After all, aunt loved me so much. Evidence-the goodies she brought along during her visits. She called me jakaluo. I loved it that way. At least a different name.
There was this famous band called Rawila Kings. A guy called Moi was a drummist. He was tasked with handing me over to my aunt at Siaya when the band reaches the town. The journey began at noon. After going past Bondo, I was keener because of the new geography. I admired the strong roaring waters of the great Yala. Then the great hill after the river. After an hour Siaya was now evident. The two tall mobile boosters were unique. We went up the great Anduro hill. At Alfrose bar, the band alighted and Moi took me to board a bodaboda to Mbaga. Mbaga was slightly colder than Wichlum. At Mbaga it was a good coincidence. I spotted my younger aunt and called her on the spot. She took us home and after tea, Moi left.
My stay began. The next day I walked around Mbaga Village. Mbaga Hill stands out amongst other hills. Got Abiero which I knew earlier could only come second. Mbaga area was named after a Ugandan Martyr, Mbaga Tudzinde.
The people were good but there was a problem- Language difference. We were all luos. But not all luo is luo. We had different pace of pronunciation. Secondly, verbs and nouns meant different things. I remember people always standing by and beckoning me to dare some pronunciations. They would burst out in laughter. I got amused at times, mad on other occasions.
In no time I had adjusted to the language and the new niche. I had made several friends. And to date I love Siaya. I have this deep attraction to the people of Siaya and Mbaga.
I will get a part two of my stay in Siaya, not as a Visitor but a Teacher and a Businessman, till then, bye!
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About Victor
Victor is a Kenyan writer and one of Kenya’s brightest upcoming leaders. He is currently compiling his autobiography.
