Hymns In The Kitchen

Some people have friends in their age mates, others prefer friends younger than them. I find my comfortable sitting among people who double my age. My mother’s age mates or older.
With these, I have to sit through their nostalgic episodes, but I get to peek into their younger lives and compare it with mine. So no big harm. One of them is a lady whom we’ll call Mrs.Lawi. She tells me a story of when she got married and was taken to her mother-in-laws- homestead. The mother in law had an annoying habit of singing aloud whenever. Since they shared a kitchen, there was no room fro communication.
When she was pregnant and couldn’t move around much, the mother- in - law would sing sneering songs about the importance of hard work, like the capable wife mentioned in the Sayings that King Lemuel* was given by his mother, chapter 31.Sometimes creating a repetitive song from the entire chapter, emphasizing on the praise that’s given to a wife that wakes up before dawn to feed her family.
Once I shared a room with a similarly tuned person. She would sing so loudly I’d have no place to say- please pass the cat’s bowl. Had they been songs I like, like a tune from Peter Kigia or the Ngangara boy’s band,I wouldn’t have minded since I’d be singing along or listening.
Cucu hums when she feels like singing, mother too, mama[uncle}hums a vroom vroom hum like that of a tractor.
Yesterday I went to have my hair braided.I hate salons. One reason way they won’t leave you to your thoughts but keep pouring stories you don’ wan’ hear to the top of your skull.
Many times they are too occupied in their narrations they mess up your hair. I have had to shave off my head clean twice after several visits to salons.
So I never liked salons,not only for their overpriced services but but for the staff who seem to be,just waiting for an ear. You’d think with the number of clients that frequent them the story reservoir would be well drained after a short while.
If I really have to have my hair made ,I look for someone who’ll do it at home, coz then I can place one of those serious looking hard covered Marketing Essentials text books on my laps and stare at it. It may work, most times it doesn’t so I still listen to sob stories.
That is why for a long time, two years, I have maintained a curly afro which I sometimes funga with a scarf. But I broke the pattern, and regretted it not less than seventy times. Ten times for every hour I sat listening to my braider’s tales of woe.She then began to sing very loudly about the doom that will befall all who cause others worry.I gritted my teethb for thirty minutes or so. She continued. Then I tapped her on her wrist and asked her to please postpone her singing until I was gone.-aaa,kwani hutaki ni praise?- she answered,offended.She didn’t stop singing ,but hence forth I could feel every braid she fixed, the skin raising two inches off the head , two inches of pain, for I dared speak.
I was really pissed, considering the amount of cash I was putting into her pocket.
These braids had better stay in place for a long long time. Maybe then I’ll have made up my mind to lea dreads.