After The War

The least likely place I would find myself aimless strawling would be here. The dust rises up to salute the scorching sun while the boys try to make a football game out of paper bags. The girls rushing about as they try to finish their chores before the sun sets.The guide mother insisted on, jeers me to a what seems to be the resemblance of a tent with a worn canvas with the  UN initials on it. There, we meet a family of four seated on a dusty mat, one that seems to be their living room as well as their bedroom. 

We are offered tea in tin cups that haven’t seen clean water for days. The tea tastes like a concussion of spices and dirty water. All I could think about is the magnitude of disease I’m consuming all for a good story one that I hoped would put my name on the map. You see I dared myself to joyride with mother on her work thingy. Back in the tent, the guide translates a lengthy response on the current status of the somali family in Daadab camp. 

In his words, Abdallah, was a man of faith who simply wanted a stable country to able to provide for what was his growing family. He had 5 children, now only 2 girls are seated besides him . He doesn’t remember how it all started and where his sons are. All he knows living as refugee is a humble pie in his journey called life. 

“After this war I don’t know how and where to start but I do know I don’t want to be a begger anymore.” He said starring me dead in the eyes. “Let this be a lesson to you people, stop tribalising and politicising everything. Soon you will have nothing to push and pull for and like me you could find yourself at the edge of another country in a camp as big as this telling stories of a once mighty state like I am.”

In shamefully I turned to my note book and  pretended to take notes of the stan words that I was secretly recording.  I know you are wondering why I brought up this story; but  friends, we are Kenyans, not Tanzania’s nor Ethiopians. We never choose the state nor our tribes to be a part of, but we can pick out battles wisely. Yes we can, because between you and I there is nothing as defeating as a refugee status and legends of a once great state that we failed to govern.  A fallen state says more about its people than its politicians.