Why grandfather Iliaja hates Christmas
Website design By BotEap.comIliaja winces at the mention of the word Christmas. It looks like someone who has unknowingly touched ice.
Website design By BotEap.comGrandpa Iliaja has never enjoyed or liked Christmas Day since he was invited to his son-in-law’s house many years ago. He had gone there in his usual attire: dirt-stained overalls, old shorts that made him look like a short old crane, and a half-torn hat that had a greenish canvas top layer.
Website design By BotEap.comWhen he got there, the whole family was busy eating an assortment of what Iliaja thought was a mix of small mushrooms, ground millet, and meat. Everyone was smartly dressed. This reminded Iliaja of the white men and his children lining up for what they called a welcome to the governor.
Website design By BotEap.comHe was still a few meters from the busy family. He leaned on his long cane like a shepherd watching over his flock. The children laughed at him and one said with a mouth full of rice: “Look at Grandpa, he has no ma…” However, she was interrupted by her mother who quickly put her hand over the child’s mouth in a stern signal. of “shut up” as he used to command his children.
Website design By BotEap.com“You can’t talk with food in your mouth, Lily,” her father said after calling Iliaja to sit on a bench a few feet from the large communal table. Iliaja sat down, crossed his legs and, putting his hands in his pocket as usual, said: “Eiye leiye leiye leiye”, which was a symptom of fatigue mixed with deep thoughts.
Website design By BotEap.comHe inhaled his snuff and sneezed. This reflex action caused brownish mucus to spurt out of her nostrils like ground water spurting out of a double sewer in the rainy season.
Website design By BotEap.comHowever, it took several minutes to find a dirty handkerchief whose color was something between black and brown. Somehow it was inside her big pocket.
Website design By BotEap.comHe kept moving his hand from his right hand pocket to his left and scanning the ceiling in the process as if he was trying to estimate the value of the dining room. All this time her mucus was lengthening.
Website design By BotEap.comThe reveling family directly opposite looked at him with the deepest contempt. Intuitively he felt that something in him was the cause of such sadness in the family because no one spoke.
M/M… Website design By BotEap.comRotich/Christmas/2 Website design By BotEap.comHe hadn’t greeted them because he thought it was ungentlemanly to talk to the people who were eating. She had to wait until they finished eating. He kept busy “inspecting” the large, well-furnished dining room while he tapped his knee with the finger of his left hand and wiped his nose with his right hand. Website design By BotEap.com“Give the old man something to eat,” the head of the family, a tall, dark man with a large bald head, ordered a servant. He was the principal of an elementary school. The servant brought a small round table to Iliaja. On that table was a plate full of rice and stew. Salt in a bottle that resembled Iliaja’s snuff bottle, a spoon, forks, and a knife, were also immaculately placed in their proper places. Website design By BotEap.comIliaja’s eyes kept flitting around the servant from one side of the room to the other while his mind was absent years and years before, when they could roast meat and antelope in the open field. So they had really been men. Website design By BotEap.com“You can continue now. We’ve already prayed,” said her daughter, who stood for the incredible Iliaja dressed in a body-hugging blue jean long pantsuit. This easily gave Iliaja an accurate estimate of how much weight her daughter had put on. She was a fire-snow-wasp woman who had drowned in city life. She was the last of Iliaja and since she was married she had never visited her father in the interior of the country. Website design By BotEap.comIliaja looked at the food in front of him and said, “What are these called?” “That’s a grandpa knife,” replied John, a mischievous young man, after chewing on a chicken drumstick. He thought his grandfather was pointing at the knife. Iliaja was silent for a while and then he took three small particles of rice and put them just a few inches from his nose and sniffed at them with great anxiety. Website design By BotEap.comThe whole family stopped eating to look at him. Her daughter, who couldn’t help but laugh out loud, came out of the house to cough up something she had put into her windpipe. “Oee! hey! hey! Grandpa, that’s not tobacco, ”said a boy who quickly fell silent when her father looked at her with threatening eyes. “I’m sorry, my son-in-law,” Iliaja said after smelling all the food they had put on him. “I’m not eating this,” she added as she pushed the food away from him with all of his might. Website design By BotEap.comAll the stew spilled in the process and the knife, fork and spoon fell to the carpeted floor. Iliaja tried unsuccessfully to salvage the situation. One glass even broke and fell to the ground and together with the others they formed a big heap on the ground. Website design By BotEap.comM/M… Website design By BotEap.comRotich/Christmas/3 Website design By BotEap.com“If there’s ugali, I’ll eat it, but if there isn’t, that’s fine with me. I’ve kept my promise,” said Iliaja desperately as the still-laughing servant continued to sweep up the mess. Website design By BotEap.comHowever, there was no ugali, mushroom, nightshade or millet porridge that
they were Iliaja’s favorite foods. She spent that Christmas fasting for nothing. Every time Christmas is mentioned, Iliaja desperately remembers his great embarrassment at his son-in-law’s house. Website design By BotEap.comIt was a somewhat sunny morning hour of the best Christmas season in the land called Kapsuser in Kenya. Iliaja, the puny but amused old man, had emerged from his little round hut surrounded by acacia bushes. Website design By BotEap.comIt had been sitting there on a slightly elevated old black wattle log for hours and hours. One could easily guess that he was reminiscing about the good old days of him when he was still a stable young man. Website design By BotEap.comSitting thus, he passed his trembling, unsteady hand from one overloaded coat pocket to the other, the same but with different contents. His searching hand continued to navigate deeper and deeper into the bowels of the bulging pocket whose contents it contained; rusty razors, tiny empty bottles of almost every color of the rainbow, little sticks, crumpled and discolored pieces of paper, and a whole collection of what could be called garbage. Website design By BotEap.comHis wrinkled and slightly bent face gave him the horrible appearance of a rock of centuries. He was busy looking for snuff which he could proudly and nonchalantly say had once been given to him by a famous apothecary of that region as a curative medicine and pain reliever. Since then, the exact date of which no one knows, he had been sniffing it out. Website design By BotEap.comWhen he fell into a gloomy mood, and he often found himself to be, he simply inhaled the snuff to loosen the tension and calm his mind. The snuff, I could tell you with a bright dang smile, worked ceremoniously. Website design By BotEap.comIliaja, still frowning in disgust as he picked up an unwanted piece of paper or bottle. He looked like a despondent postgraduate who had just read a letter of regret from the CEO of his favorite company. Website design By BotEap.comHe had been a robust man, always balanced and stern. He was credited as one of the greatest warriors of his time. He was bald, wrestler-like with pronounced bow legs. The pupil color of his always inquisitive and intelligent brown eyes reminded one of the first European settlers in that land. Website design By BotEap.comRound pieces of ornamental copper dangled from his pierced ears, which, when he nodded, hung gaily as if to hug their owner’s temples. And they sure did. Website design By BotEap.comM/M… Website design By BotEap.comRotich/Christmas/4 Website design By BotEap.com“Hey! Chebet, look at my fungus,” said a child’s voice from the other side of the thorny fence that bordered Iliaja’s compound with neighbors.
“Let’s take it to grandma and grandpa,” another child’s voice suggested. This time she clearly sounded like a girl. Website design By BotEap.comIliaja and his wife had been waiting for their grandchildren since dawn. These children attended a boarding mission school and often visited their grandparents during the holidays. Website design By BotEap.comHis wife was outside harvesting millet when Kiprop and Chebet arrived like those shepherds you read about in the Bible. Among the children was a large brown basket whose straps they held tightly in their hands. The contents of the baskets were covered with a well-patterned white scarf, though a pumpkin head protruded from one side. Website design By BotEap.comTheir grandmother relieved them of their burden and, before saying anything, carried the basket into the cabin and placed it safely next to the pot of water. Leaving the house, she folded her hands as usual and greeted the two children, nodding in the process. Website design By BotEap.comKiprop handed him the broadhead mushroom. Grasping it, his grandmother said possessively, “This bodes well, my grandchildren: a large, white, fresh mushroom. Where was it?” she inspected the fungus and scraped off the dirt. “I found it at granny on the side of the road,” said Kiprop, who laughed when he saw his grandmother nodding happily. Website design By BotEap.com“Let’s go in my little ones, it’s cold outside,” the old woman said, beckoning them inside. “Why didn’t you bring Kiptesot with you? She must have grown a lot these days,” she added. Kiptesot was Kiprop’s younger brother whose bowed legs made him resemble Iliaja when he was young. Website design By BotEap.com“He’s still short… oh that one. Mommy was hit by a stone yesterday and they didn’t let her accompany her,” said Chebet, a seven-year-old girl with curly black hair, cheerful eyes and a well-shaped body. She was wearing a short blue skirt that revealed most of her fleshy, succulent thighs. Website design By BotEap.comEntering the small cabin, Chebet ventured, “You will tell us a story, Grandma. Our other grandma used to tell us sweets at night.” Chebet had shown a keen interest in stories ever since he was able to speak. Website design By BotEap.comShe and her brothers and sisters often went to their paternal grandmother’s house. She was a widow and a good story teller. However, lately she had become tired and quiet. When the
children went to her hut, she threatened to beat them up. She often complained that the children were too noisy. The children had avoided going to her shack lately. Website design By BotEap.comM/M… Website design By BotEap.comRotich/Christmas/5 Website design By BotEap.comThere were no children in the Iliaja compound. All day he was as silent as a puddle of water. His wife had given birth to seven children, four daughters and three boys, but unfortunately all the boys Website design By BotEap.comhad died. Two of them died during a war and one from an unknown food. The only children who came to Iliaja’s house were those of his daughters and brothers. Website design By BotEap.com“Sit down, my grandchildren,” said Iliaja, who was comfortably seated by the fire. “How is everyone at home?” he asked. Kiprop, who was twelve years old, was the first to speak after sitting down on round three-legged stools. Website design By BotEap.com“Home is fine, Grandpa. Mom made us swear that we should come home on Sunday.” When no one spoke, he added, “Our father is coming from town on Monday. He will bring us shoes and clothes for Christmas.” Iliaja winced when he heard the word Christmas mentioned. Website design By BotEap.comChebet smiled broadly as she pictured herself in shiny shoes like the white man’s girl she had seen in town the week before. However, he immediately closed his mouth as cold air filled the space where two of his incisors had been cut earlier that day.
M/M… Website design By BotEap.comRotich/Christmas/2 Website design By BotEap.comHe hadn’t greeted them because he thought it was ungentlemanly to talk to the people who were eating. She had to wait until they finished eating. He kept busy “inspecting” the large, well-furnished dining room while he tapped his knee with the finger of his left hand and wiped his nose with his right hand. Website design By BotEap.com“Give the old man something to eat,” the head of the family, a tall, dark man with a large bald head, ordered a servant. He was the principal of an elementary school. The servant brought a small round table to Iliaja. On that table was a plate full of rice and stew. Salt in a bottle that resembled Iliaja’s snuff bottle, a spoon, forks, and a knife, were also immaculately placed in their proper places. Website design By BotEap.comIliaja’s eyes kept flitting around the servant from one side of the room to the other while his mind was absent years and years before, when they could roast meat and antelope in the open field. So they had really been men. Website design By BotEap.com“You can continue now. We’ve already prayed,” said her daughter, who stood for the incredible Iliaja dressed in a body-hugging blue jean long pantsuit. This easily gave Iliaja an accurate estimate of how much weight her daughter had put on. She was a fire-snow-wasp woman who had drowned in city life. She was the last of Iliaja and since she was married she had never visited her father in the interior of the country. Website design By BotEap.comIliaja looked at the food in front of him and said, “What are these called?” “That’s a grandpa knife,” replied John, a mischievous young man, after chewing on a chicken drumstick. He thought his grandfather was pointing at the knife. Iliaja was silent for a while and then he took three small particles of rice and put them just a few inches from his nose and sniffed at them with great anxiety. Website design By BotEap.comThe whole family stopped eating to look at him. Her daughter, who couldn’t help but laugh out loud, came out of the house to cough up something she had put into her windpipe. “Oee! hey! hey! Grandpa, that’s not tobacco, ”said a boy who quickly fell silent when her father looked at her with threatening eyes. “I’m sorry, my son-in-law,” Iliaja said after smelling all the food they had put on him. “I’m not eating this,” she added as she pushed the food away from him with all of his might. Website design By BotEap.comAll the stew spilled in the process and the knife, fork and spoon fell to the carpeted floor. Iliaja tried unsuccessfully to salvage the situation. One glass even broke and fell to the ground and together with the others they formed a big heap on the ground. Website design By BotEap.comM/M… Website design By BotEap.comRotich/Christmas/3 Website design By BotEap.com“If there’s ugali, I’ll eat it, but if there isn’t, that’s fine with me. I’ve kept my promise,” said Iliaja desperately as the still-laughing servant continued to sweep up the mess. Website design By BotEap.comHowever, there was no ugali, mushroom, nightshade or millet porridge that
they were Iliaja’s favorite foods. She spent that Christmas fasting for nothing. Every time Christmas is mentioned, Iliaja desperately remembers his great embarrassment at his son-in-law’s house. Website design By BotEap.comIt was a somewhat sunny morning hour of the best Christmas season in the land called Kapsuser in Kenya. Iliaja, the puny but amused old man, had emerged from his little round hut surrounded by acacia bushes. Website design By BotEap.comIt had been sitting there on a slightly elevated old black wattle log for hours and hours. One could easily guess that he was reminiscing about the good old days of him when he was still a stable young man. Website design By BotEap.comSitting thus, he passed his trembling, unsteady hand from one overloaded coat pocket to the other, the same but with different contents. His searching hand continued to navigate deeper and deeper into the bowels of the bulging pocket whose contents it contained; rusty razors, tiny empty bottles of almost every color of the rainbow, little sticks, crumpled and discolored pieces of paper, and a whole collection of what could be called garbage. Website design By BotEap.comHis wrinkled and slightly bent face gave him the horrible appearance of a rock of centuries. He was busy looking for snuff which he could proudly and nonchalantly say had once been given to him by a famous apothecary of that region as a curative medicine and pain reliever. Since then, the exact date of which no one knows, he had been sniffing it out. Website design By BotEap.comWhen he fell into a gloomy mood, and he often found himself to be, he simply inhaled the snuff to loosen the tension and calm his mind. The snuff, I could tell you with a bright dang smile, worked ceremoniously. Website design By BotEap.comIliaja, still frowning in disgust as he picked up an unwanted piece of paper or bottle. He looked like a despondent postgraduate who had just read a letter of regret from the CEO of his favorite company. Website design By BotEap.comHe had been a robust man, always balanced and stern. He was credited as one of the greatest warriors of his time. He was bald, wrestler-like with pronounced bow legs. The pupil color of his always inquisitive and intelligent brown eyes reminded one of the first European settlers in that land. Website design By BotEap.comRound pieces of ornamental copper dangled from his pierced ears, which, when he nodded, hung gaily as if to hug their owner’s temples. And they sure did. Website design By BotEap.comM/M… Website design By BotEap.comRotich/Christmas/4 Website design By BotEap.com“Hey! Chebet, look at my fungus,” said a child’s voice from the other side of the thorny fence that bordered Iliaja’s compound with neighbors.
“Let’s take it to grandma and grandpa,” another child’s voice suggested. This time she clearly sounded like a girl. Website design By BotEap.comIliaja and his wife had been waiting for their grandchildren since dawn. These children attended a boarding mission school and often visited their grandparents during the holidays. Website design By BotEap.comHis wife was outside harvesting millet when Kiprop and Chebet arrived like those shepherds you read about in the Bible. Among the children was a large brown basket whose straps they held tightly in their hands. The contents of the baskets were covered with a well-patterned white scarf, though a pumpkin head protruded from one side. Website design By BotEap.comTheir grandmother relieved them of their burden and, before saying anything, carried the basket into the cabin and placed it safely next to the pot of water. Leaving the house, she folded her hands as usual and greeted the two children, nodding in the process. Website design By BotEap.comKiprop handed him the broadhead mushroom. Grasping it, his grandmother said possessively, “This bodes well, my grandchildren: a large, white, fresh mushroom. Where was it?” she inspected the fungus and scraped off the dirt. “I found it at granny on the side of the road,” said Kiprop, who laughed when he saw his grandmother nodding happily. Website design By BotEap.com“Let’s go in my little ones, it’s cold outside,” the old woman said, beckoning them inside. “Why didn’t you bring Kiptesot with you? She must have grown a lot these days,” she added. Kiptesot was Kiprop’s younger brother whose bowed legs made him resemble Iliaja when he was young. Website design By BotEap.com“He’s still short… oh that one. Mommy was hit by a stone yesterday and they didn’t let her accompany her,” said Chebet, a seven-year-old girl with curly black hair, cheerful eyes and a well-shaped body. She was wearing a short blue skirt that revealed most of her fleshy, succulent thighs. Website design By BotEap.comEntering the small cabin, Chebet ventured, “You will tell us a story, Grandma. Our other grandma used to tell us sweets at night.” Chebet had shown a keen interest in stories ever since he was able to speak. Website design By BotEap.comShe and her brothers and sisters often went to their paternal grandmother’s house. She was a widow and a good story teller. However, lately she had become tired and quiet. When the
children went to her hut, she threatened to beat them up. She often complained that the children were too noisy. The children had avoided going to her shack lately. Website design By BotEap.comM/M… Website design By BotEap.comRotich/Christmas/5 Website design By BotEap.comThere were no children in the Iliaja compound. All day he was as silent as a puddle of water. His wife had given birth to seven children, four daughters and three boys, but unfortunately all the boys Website design By BotEap.comhad died. Two of them died during a war and one from an unknown food. The only children who came to Iliaja’s house were those of his daughters and brothers. Website design By BotEap.com“Sit down, my grandchildren,” said Iliaja, who was comfortably seated by the fire. “How is everyone at home?” he asked. Kiprop, who was twelve years old, was the first to speak after sitting down on round three-legged stools. Website design By BotEap.com“Home is fine, Grandpa. Mom made us swear that we should come home on Sunday.” When no one spoke, he added, “Our father is coming from town on Monday. He will bring us shoes and clothes for Christmas.” Iliaja winced when he heard the word Christmas mentioned. Website design By BotEap.comChebet smiled broadly as she pictured herself in shiny shoes like the white man’s girl she had seen in town the week before. However, he immediately closed his mouth as cold air filled the space where two of his incisors had been cut earlier that day.