Let's admit it. No one likes family gatherings anymore. These occasions show how little you understand humankind. Especially your own blood and flesh. Spending years apart in urban grids doesn't help the family bond.
Unlike friends and people you meet at the workplace, the family is big on judgement.
The lot hardly ever sugarcoats the judgement. People will be smiling boldly, as they pick through the inner walls of your privacy and conscience.
The family will want to be your lawyer, and then, your judge.
They'll tell you: "Do what makes you happy".
You do it.
Then, they'll start saying:
"Dude, you drink too much".
"Hey, is that a new girlfriend? Isn't that too many girlfriends you got?"
"Go slow on the whisky, gin and tonic. Are you depressed? Is it work?"
"You eating too much, here's a discount coupon for a gym on Raila Odinga Way".
That's what makes me happy! It was your advice, you meddling specimens of human garbage! Of course, you cannot cuss and scream unprintables!
December loves get-togethers. One of the family's favourite cousins forms a Whatsapp group. Adds everyone. Every family has its favourite nieces, nephews - and, this other lot of 'nondescript' cousins. You belong here.
The group is named "The Cousins 2022". Because there was a similar group in 2021, but no one turned up, citing the pandemic. The group appoints a 'Head Girl'.
This is always that cousin - flashy and domineering. Her folks are monied and usually bankroll family meetings. She's a powerful group admin.
Her Highness the Admin calls you out almost immediately. On the group, she wonders aloud what keeps you so preoccupied in Kinoo, that you missed the 2020 cousin's meeting.
The question attracts five question marks. To nip that thread in the bud, you pledge to be present for the 2022 meeting.
Nothing life-threatening happens to you that could be used as an excuse to miss it. No hit-and-run happens. There's not a single cop's stray bullet that finds you. You mind your business in Kinoo, as you idly follow cousins' banter on 'The Cousins 2022'.
The get-together gives you the jitters, but you somehow pull your wits together. As a personal rule, you never attend them sober. All the judgement and weird questions need a stronger landing base.
Of course, everyone is there.
Instagram in the flesh. Flashy, expensive rides. Designer suits. Imported loafers. Most of your cousins are younger - but are flaunting the key to success in life.
At your grandpa's compound on D-Day, you try to blend in. An attempt at peeling potatoes and God-knows-what. The uncles, meanwhile, share a pot of Muratina under a mango tree in the corner of the compound. They keenly watch the litter's impact on the little congregation.
The family set-up is a miniature imprint of society. The future CEO, the comedian, the teacher - all these traits are easily spotted from the shade of the mango tree.
An uncle - one of the loud ones - beeps your number. You glance at them - he beckons for you.
The walk to the mango tree feels longer than Christ The Redeemer's infamous walk to Golgotha. The cross on your shoulders is the question: What do you do in Kinoo?
Surprisingly, there's no interrogation at first. You are offered a tumbler. The talk is subdued, and quite patronly. The loud uncle catches you off guard, halfway into your second tumbler. He's the rough one; he has none of that corporate table finesse.
"Hey, Mzee.... (he calls you so, as you are named after Grandpa - his dad).... Haujapata ka'mtu? Why did you come alone?" he chuckles, eyes sparkling with mischief.
The others dive in. It gets awkward. It's not friendly banter anymore. Your life is up for examination, and a load of judgement. It starts feeling like a surgeon's medical dissection of a corpse in a medical school anatomy lesson.
Why, Dear Lord, didn't I leave that Whatsapp group? To hell and damnation with 'The Cousins 2022'
