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I will actually buy a book by the latter because she actually
has this flawless goddess image when it comes to the literary scene in Kenya
and because I have always taken for granted the notion of reading her previous
works because of some unfathomable primal. Again which I have no clue about.
Actually, the books were good reads (those that I bought). I
am planning to buy more books and ad to my library that I hope will inaugurate
a series of works in immaculate condition and crisp so that there are no
defects on the book or pages in the near future. How will I achieve this filial
overture? I have a salary for heaven's sake. I will prorate a small portion of
it to quench my reading thirst. Again it is not easy to get that someone I
currently know of who has Kenyan books (lots of them) I can exchange the few
books (read two) that I have.
This is the point I remind myself that I need to get out of the cocoon and reduce the introversive nature in me which is full of contentment but still inebriated to maintain my selfish status quo.
This is the point I remind myself that I need to get out of the cocoon and reduce the introversive nature in me which is full of contentment but still inebriated to maintain my selfish status quo.
Going to buy the books was one of the decisions I had made
last year. Whereas I have been postponing the purchase, I finally had the
nerves to purchase them two weeks ago on a lousy Sunday mid-morning when I was
feeling bored and the couch pastors on local telly were somehow not assuaging
the nervous me to sit down and watch the sermon that would have had a spiritual
impact on my already fragile amend with the Greater Spiritual Being.
I decided to leisurely foot to make it to the supermarket
that sells books because taking a matatu would have instinctively meant I was
not going to ponder on the state of affairs in the hood. I realized so much has
changed within the little time that I have been tacitly absorbed by work,
school and returning back to the house as my wonted. My current salary though cannot
afford me a getaway from the city or dining in one of the ritzy restaurants serving
gourmet cuisine which I will be eager to sample if matters go well with this
beautiful girl who makes my heart skip a bit when I think about her (is this
just infatuation or lust). I am complaining inwardly but things are looking up and
they will ultimately turn rosy eventually.
On arrival at the supermarket, I was tempted. My initial intent was to procure a single Kenyan book since I was under the impression that one was retailing at Ksh.1000 but luckily, I found two which I settled on. Eve Kasaya's "Tale of Kasaya" and Stanley Gazemba's "The Stone Hills of Maragoli." Settling on the two books was not easy. I had heard of Stanley Gazemba. I initially had no idea on which book I was to buy actually. Still I just wanted to buy a Kenyan book though I had this notion that most authors are novices with their lingo and attribution of their works would be a little easy if not disappointing or full or inadequacy. When the two books turned out to be just slightly above the initial budget I had projected, I was salivating. My fingers were having this powerful feeling of fondling the books that had gathered dust on the shelves, a clear indication that they were less prestigious or in other words they were louche. I love the font used for publishing the books. It was just wow.
But there was an even better offer. It turned out that three books were retailing for just Ksh.1000. They were Western literature by big names all the publications being best sellers. And the way I LOVE how those authors are able to ingenuously tell stories by keep someone in suspense and creating flow that keeps makes you want to clutch on the edges even if you are feeling very gauche.
I pondered over the next available move but stuck on the
initial decision. Buying Kenyan books which I did not find in the usual location
where they had been placed the last time I went to the supermarket. They were
hidden in my opine, because for the untrained eye with no fetish for books, one
would even wonder that the same were in existence if you asked latter if they
took notice of the Kenyan books. But how many people take their time to
read Kenyan Books? The figure is mind boggling because I have no real statistic
of the same.
Reading Kasaya’s book, I was eagerly awaiting for that time
where she was to get to or complete high school. Apparently, there are very
many high school graduates who I know of who cannot intuitively flow as her
because she has very good spoken English. The fact that she was a maid past a
dozen years and her near death experience working for an employee who also
never paid her other than take her once to a salon where she was done her hair
at a figure I am even feeling something inside me pierce the heart painfully because
it is not what I can spend on beauty in my current state more than ten years
down the line. Luckily her neighbors came in rescue and a pastor later told her
to forgive as human is to err and instead of reporting the matter to the
police, she followed the word of the minister.
Watching her later on YouTube in Jeff Koinange’s “The Bench”
on K24, I could see she was quite polished. Somehow she is achieving her dream
because she has been able to move a notch higher in her societal status.
Interacting with likes of Ngugi and Micere on the same dias is no mean fete for
a class eight drop out. Bet by now, she has completed her high school as she stated she
was going to complete the same and even go to university. This is a true
manifestation that the inhibitions in our brains are folly creations that only
circumvent our aspiration into cruising a notch higher because time and tide
waits for no man who clings on inertia.
The horrific experiences working as a maid was quite an eye
opener on the general conditions some maids have to go through. From eating
alone while standing in the kitchen, washing bloody underwear, walking at night
to go fetch water, working with no pay for months and other unearthly instances
such as the probability of being raped by the man of the house and since most
do not know their rights, they end up suffering in silence.
A way from the Kasaya’s tale, Stanley Gazemba has a way of
using language is sententious and rich, not too much purple prose such that you
are lost in flourish of fancy wording. His magical and flowery use of words in
a pictographic way leaves one with the impression that they are in the scene
and the storyline resonates well with the rural folk with vivid descriptions
that create a strong momentum that energizes you as a reader to continue
flipping the pages without ceasing. His judicious use of vocabulary is on point
keeping one captive and that is what I loved about his artistry in general.
Gazemba’s book was everything that I have always wanted to
read in a nutshell. It usually sounds gloriously elegant and beautifully
crafted to the eye with near perfect diction. The story setting takes you to a
world full of fiction and though it does not capture the real life situation,
it is the real deal. The creative fiction in it was however limiting because it
oscillates within the rural set-up. Yet most rural folks have relatives in urban
areas who they visit once on a while.
It was easy to dissect how the next chapter unravels because
there are hints before the next chapter comes in quick succession. Say it’s
like watching an Oga movie with a predictable flow. Ombima being the main character has his fair share
of life hurdles (losing his daughter, then sight and finally his mistress). His
goose is however cooked for deeping his loin in his seductive master’s better
half honey pot that results in the latter’s house maid taking over the house
when she is still cold six feet under.
HASTA LA VISTA BABY
[Picture Source: Photoshop Inverted Google Images]
[Picture Source: Photoshop Inverted Google Images]
