I WANT TO BE A SHOPKEEPER

Growing up, one question every adult asked a kid was what they wanted to be when they grew up. I think people still ask that question, I do too sometimes - when making small talk with a child. Kids of nowadays can give answers ranging from Truck Driver, Artist, Singer, Tattoo Artist, DJ or any of these fancy careers and no parent would bat an eye. You wouldn't dare tell that to a parent who was alive when Freedom Fighters were in battle for Kenya's independence! 'The Kapenguria 6 weren't imprisoned for 7 years for a son of the soil to disclose their interest to pursue a career as a Dancer. Kwani umerogwa?!' If your answer wasn't among the countable 'respected careers', folks of such times would come close to disowning you. Now, here's the answer I had to that question. The first answer, I gave when 'big people' asked, the other, I kept to myself.

While in Std.4, my mum hired a fundi to make her a Kibanda. After the passing of my dad, she tried out as many businesses as she could to make both ends meet but all seemed futile until this kibanda idea came about. This kibandaski was directly opposite a simple local shop and it was owned by Baba Jamo, who was also the father to this tall light skinned weird girl that giggled at everything people did. Her name was Wamboi; popularly known as 'Wamboi wa akina Jamo na Ndegwa'. When her father wasn't manning the shop, she was. Same case applied on my side. When my mum wasn't around, I took charge. This is how Wamboi and myself became dear friends. We would exchange stories of how business was running, which customers we hated, how much we'd made on a sale, etc. 

In these 'business exchanges', my dearest friend never told me that for them to actually have stock for the month/week, her dad had to part with some cash. Just like myself, Wamboi also just thought that there was someone who'd come bring products to their shop out of their good heart and give them to Baba Wamboi for free to sell. We both concluded that money obtained from everything sold from the shop all went to her dad's pockets and that his family could eat all they wanted from the shop, whenever they pleased. 

To make this idea I had cooking in my mind more solid, Wamboi would occasionally bring with her some sweets, 'ngumus', 'lollipops', et al to our Kibanda for us to eat - just like that! HIVYO TU! I remember always asking her "Ghai, yaani mnakulanga tu kenye mnataka kwa hio duka yenu?" "Na baba yako huwa hakuulizi.." to which she'd grin and answer "Kwetu sisi ni wadosi sana...Babangu hawezi niuliza. Hata enda uulize Ndegwa wetu.." From the interactions I had with her, I made a declaration in my deepest of hearts that I wanted to be a Shopkeeper when I grew up.

The idea was that when I had my shop I'd eat anything I liked, drink lots of 'soda ya  fanta', have my family pick and feast on whatever they wanted,yaani, I'd be such a 'mdosi' when I grew up. I would envy children that came from Shopkeeper families only to grow up and learn how a business is operated. With time, I learnt that ours too, our Kibandaski, was also a business - only that we sold less tasty and healthier food choices.

"I want to be a Teacher, just like daddy." That's the first answer I always gave to fit in when people asked. So what I'm I now/ what do I want to be when I grow up?

Well, for starters, the Shopkeeper 'main dream' died but I have a business mind at least. Wamboi and I lost touch, I hope she too now knows that those suppliers weren't well-wishers, ha! I'm a lot of things now, none falls in the category of the 'ol 'respected careers' but I have  managed to get under my wings all the basic needs. So when I grow up, all I want to be is alive & happy - with a satisfied stomach at least!

FUN FACT: Did you know the inspiration behind Michelle Obama's recently released book title "BECOMING"?

In an interview with Oprah, Mrs. Obama said that the worst question in the world an adult can ask a kid is 'What do you want to be when you grow up?' as if growing up if finite, as if you become something and that is all there is. So her truth was, for her, each decade of her life offered something amazing that she never would have imagined. If she had stopped to look, she'd miss out on so much. At her age, as grown as society considers her to be, she's still Becoming - and that, the book, is the story of her journey.