As I read through this exceptionally written book by Rawder Kidula & Florah Kidula, I couldn't help but silently laugh at one vivid memory still etched in my mind of a time in my teenage hood when I thought the world, with no shred of doubt, revolved around me. Had I had such a book, my approach to life then would probably have been different, who knows?
Now, having visitors was the norm while living at Hanne Howard Fund Lenana compound (aka The Project). Some volunteers would come to either teach us art, dance, boxing, taekwondo, others would come teach us how to express ourselves in English and the ones we'd mostly look forward to were those donors, local and/or international, who'd come with clothes and food. This particular week while we were all home for the August holidays there was a donor, beautiful Miss Sonia, who'd booked to spend her week at the project. She would portion her day in a way that ensured she spends time with all groups of kids, starting with the toddlers to the high schooler. I was part of the high schoolers at the time; one classy, hormone-filled, can't-tell-me-nothing Form 1 girl. Sonia would read fun storybooks with the 'tiny-tots', then move to do some art with the pre-teens and come have some girl to girl talks with us. To enhance full participation, she'd sometimes carry with her candy to award great listeners and those who embodied obedience.
As we neared the close of this particular week, during one of the sessions with the teenagers, she causally mentioned that on her last day, i.e., Saturday, we'd cook some nice food to celebrate. As part of our daily routine, after the morning and mid morning learning sessions some girls would be picked to help out with kitchen duties. We took Sonia's promise of the nice lunch very seriously. I could not contain my excitement as I knew, based on previous experience, that we'd eat lots of beef or chicken meals and maybe top it off with some ice cream. I went ahead to even volunteer to help in the kitchen on the D-day. In great anticipation, Friday came, we waited for Sonia. A group of about 5 girls were on kitchen duty that day. We were like heads of states and weren't smiling with anyone lest they ask us for favours. We were going to have access to delicacies that none was allowed to touch....
"You have to come through us first...to get today's food. Talk to us nice!" we'd brag as Sonia's truck approached the gate.
She called the Big Five to help offload the truck and off we went. As we unloaded the bags in the kitchen ready to get down to business, one of us noticed that the bigger bag which we thought carried chicken had French beans in plenty. Imagine our surprise on revealing the contents of the other bags! Other than the "michiri", the other bags had some cauliflowers, broccoli, lettuce, cherry tomatoes, cheese and a huge bag of rice. The disappointed faces could not be hidden.
"Tutaambia nini watuuu...?!"'
I took it personal that there was no chicken (or ice cream) and it was at this point that my explosive teenage attitude came to life. Sonia was so eager to show us how to prepare the green beans salad that would be accompanied by vegetable soup and rice. I called the girls to the side and we made some kind of pact that we would not eat the salad. We helped prepare the salad but kept murmuring how disappointed we were, sharing some inside jokes.
"Sasa hizi ndio wazungu wanaita chakula? like for reaaalzzz?"
"Nijipate nikikula vitu mbichi mimi...like wot are these??!"
Being a teacher, Sonia picked on the grumbling but didn't make it a big deal until it was time to make it a big deal. When the food was ready our group refused to eat! We refused to eat vegetable soup and "uncooked food", and when asked why we responded while rolling our eyes. The entitlement as loud you guy, my guy! There was no way we were going to accept coercion into being told how to live our lives. I mean, we were the 'it crew!'
News of our displeasure with Sonia's food unfortunately reached the Manager's office and by bad luck, the Founders happened to be in at the time and it was then that all hell broke loose! As if communicating displeasure wasn't enough, we were summoned to the office but didn't go! The pack mentality was in full play with an agreement that none of us would comply even under duress.
"Hatutakiii! Mscheeww!"
On learning of our blatant disrespect, our mother and Founder decided enough was enough. We saw her making long strides coming our way in complete fury, ready to give us a piece of her mind and boy did we get our butts handed to us! The scolding incorporated teaching on why vegetables and salads were good for us and her disbelief that we thought we were in a position to pick & choose what to eat and what to discard. She sternly warned us against such behaviour and insisted that eating the food cooked there was not an option and it was either we complied or went out into the world to find our desired food.
Meals that followed this outburst all had salads & vegetables accompanying them and it was a rule that the every full plate was to be cleared. No teenage girl was to think themselves old enough to set alternate rules. The fact that I now looove and make salads at home & go to restaurants to order salads is testament that teenage hood, if not handled well, can make one have a warped idea of how life should be lived, what's helpful & beneficial and what to discard.
As a mentor of teenagers through Stellar Generation Kenya , I hope to create a space for free expression of 'teenage opinions' to be met by guided lessons and demonstration of a better way to live. 'For My Beautiful Teen Girl' is one of the resources that can help a parent of a teenager do exactly that. This was a great read! I recommend 100%
#2025Reads
#MentorshipForTeenagers
#StellarGenerationKenya
#sgktotheworld
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