The Right to Live and Die by my Mistakes and Choices.

Its International Women’s Day today, lets talk and touch base...

There is something to be said when one decides to move away from all social order norms and find their own path in life. Somehow, even within ‘progressive’ social spaces we tend to want a certain kind of uniformity and oneness… Often we impose a varied spectrum of rewards or sanctions to compel each other to conform to what is deemed ‘acceptable’ or ‘appropriate’…I have to say I have a deep respect for those who not only do not conform, but who also live by the same principles of not imposing their choices overbearingly on others – its effing hard to do this but nothing can be more sexier…living by the same standards to expect from others can transform this world - its pretty revolutionary... Think about it!

 I want to be the one on this International Women’s Day to say that women need the space, room and opportunities to find deep inner understanding and self discovery. I say this explicitly because women’s lives are often conflated with the daily affairs of their households and communities slowly erasing their individuality, needs, priorities and desires. I myself took this path over 21 years ago when I questioned everything and felt that in order to be most truthful to myself I needed to step out of societal shadows and also away from who were most closest to me. It was an excruciating journey to extricate myself, my options and my choices out of hands of my beloved who underwrote my every day living burdens. Thanks to my deep need to practice self autonomy I found this a necessary move to step away from the cushions that come with conforming to societal norms of what was expected of me as a girl or woman.  I was and still am unapologetic about stepping away from oppressive societal norms that have worked on silencing, shaming and subjugating me or my body, my choices, my sexuality and triviliasing my contributions based on my appearance age and gender etc. I will live and die by my right to make my mistakes and my choices. What can I say, **shrugs**….Bite me.

This meant that from the time I was 18 years old, I maintained my hair expenses because I did not need opinions around ‘what suited me’ or ‘what was appropriate.’  It also meant I was not unnecessarily baggaged with the need to keep hair in certain ways…if it cost too much, it went off. A very simple but affordable ethos. And yea, I did not worry too much about head shapes and foreheads because everyone’s good opinion of my hair did not get to pay for my hair bills. My point is, there is a big difference between my right to choose how to keep my hair and my bad fashion sense...these are mutually exclusive issues...also I really like blue braids...

It was a high price to pay to be stubborn and questioning of many things. It meant I left home when I felt that my choices were restricted to the validation of those older, more powerful and with more cash access than me. When their view did not sit right with me it paved the way for me to step away from home towards independence and distance myself from the comfort/discomfort of their support and underwriting of my life’s costs. But in practical terms this also meant I had a reality check and realised that any privileges I had needed to be self-sought. That very humbling lesson limited the choices I had and forced me to prioritise what was more important. In the end that exit from the comforts of home meant, constantly thinking about the baby on my back and trying to keep something (not always a roof!) over our heads and food in our bellies….I ended up living at a friend’s house which was effectively an illegal room allocation in a public school worker quarters. My rent contribution was $5 per month paid to a corrupt school administrator and water had to be fetched from a long way away. With an infant who was barely month old this was no mean feat on my back and my barely healed stitches. So I recall with sadness the very difficult time I had in this stint of times; where I peed into plastic tubs at night kept under the bed and poured it out in the morning…I will not lie, I missed indoor plumbing and often cried myself to sleep thinking of the small comforts of home but where I also felt overbearing oppression from my parents views about how my life should be.  At some point though, it was also exhilarating to simply make decisions for myself about my own life. This phase of my life contributed greatly to who I am today. I do not always take that easy path, and nobody owes any me favours.

Some of the invaluable lessons of choosing difficult paths had its benefits. I did not start a habit unless I was able to pay for it myself. It also meant I am not a good candidate of peer pressure… I am unlikely to want to ‘keep up appearances’ or live a life I cannot afford or sustain and be a slave of credit. My rule of thumb was, if I could not afford it then it was not in the stars.

I remember once finding a great bargain to buy  twin bamboo beds with orthopaedic mattresses in an expatriate sale. I took a SACCO loan and paid for them on check off for about a year. What a proud moment it was for me when I got to install these used beds for my son and my housekeeper at the time. It would take me another year sleeping on a foam mattress myself on the floor to be in a position to get myself a frame and mattress, but I felt positive it would happen…it was just a matter of time. Much more than anything I remember the days when all my housekeeper and I could afford each morning was a tepid cup of black tea to go down with left over greens to make a kale ‘sandwich.’ Milk was and still is quite a difficult thing to afford day to day in Nairobi. I managed however to get a very cool Maasai neighbour who came round with a jerrican of fresh milk every morning from his cows. With my stretched income, we could only afford to buy a cupful each day which went to making a cup of creamy steamy cocoa and the rest to soak the two weetabix chunks the young man ate every weekday before school. Milky tea would have to wait till I got to the office cafeteria... I also remember hours spent in second-hand markets like Toy and Gikomba in the days mitumba clothes’ costs made sense. My friend and I would literally comb through wads of clothes strewn in huge piles to get bargains. We avoided hung up clothes (camera) which were pricey. We had to wear gumboots and tuck in our pants to avoid the mud sometimes during the rainy season or wash up our legs and shoes after the market visit.

I remember having to split costs with my best friend at the time to buy filling spicy delicious Ethiopian food. We knew several good spots in Nairobi’s bustling Eastleigh…. Neither one of us could afford much and especially buying the complete meal but having it meant we could stay satisfied all day.

I remember Nairobi rain that started at 4.30pm just before we broke off work how it had and still has an impact on our ability to afford hiked matatu fare. It meant we were accustomed to walking long distances towards our homes in the evening or where the fare would at least make sense. In all these circumstances what helped me get by was the fact that I got to sleep in the spread I made…be it in a tiny room in Eastleigh…or on the floor in sprawling slums of Kware in Ongata Rongai. I got to be the queen of my abode. It was deathly glorious.

On this day to take stock on women’s issues I wish to laud any woman who has had to be born, live and will likely die in a deeply misogynistic and unrelenting world.  I wish for women to have days when you can step away from societal pressure to conform to narrow traditional gender norms that are oppressive to your rights and your choices. May you be your own person to make your own good and bad decisions because they are yours and only yours to make. May you not feel the need to burden your good self with the poor decisions of those close to you because you are not the saviour of the world. May you untangle the yoke of patriarchal values that do not just subjugate you, but also oppress those who challenge these norms that say some people are better or more acceptable than others. May you not be a conduit for these oppressive notions but instead be an agent for transformative social justice where all the intersections of our oppressions no matter where we are located are addressed from a place of fairness and equality… May your eyes open, may your horizons extend, may you be part of a movement that is deeply committed to seeing a day when the playing field is even. May you be free from facing the violence that so easily comes your way in form of kicks, punches, words, policing etc. May you free yourself from the oppressive shackles of thinking it is your sole burden and responsibility to take care of others at the expense of taking care of yourself…May you learn to appreciate and see the diversity in other women different from you as an enrichment to our society rather than a threat to your existence.

We need a new generation of young people who place more value in self-determination and part of that involves letting go of the toxic protectionist approaches we adopt today in our lived realities. Part of this is ensuring we centre our lives and those close to us towards the principles of their rights to choose...so step back, let go.... Let us all learn to spread the beds we lie on.