A satirical look at aspects of modern contemporary and traditional Luhya culture; and how our way of life is set to change with the coronavirus pandemic. This is life in mulembe in the time of coronavirus (SARS-CoV-2 virus).
Any other weekend without meaningful football – read the English Premier League – would have been spent at my simba in ingo. But that’s not the case in these times of coronavirus. I would have boarded a Friday afternoon shuttle from somewhere along Mfagano street, and the small hours of Saturday morning would have found me somewhere in the watering holes of DY catching up with all that was new with BG.
Monday evening rush hour, I’d be catching up on sleep in Nairobi traffic as I found my way to my adopted home – a box in the bedrooms of this concrete jungle – having traveled overnight from Bungoma yefwe. I’d still be under the weight of my trusted bagpack. Decked in yesterday’s clothes as it were that I’d be coming having snuck back into the city in the early light of Monday morning.
I would be tired and missing home. But at peace. The enyama esike, engokho esambe and dried bubwoba that my people had packed would last me the few coming weeks before I headed back for more.
The spirit of mulembe; an ethos curtailed
Moreover, having communed with my people, I’d be dripping with the spirit of Mulembe. Even though it’s a spirit that’s at odds with Nairobi’s famed state of mind, I still need to refill my wells every so often as the spirit makes me whole. (It’s tough being Luhya in contemporary Kenya I tell you…)
In spite of this internal conflict, once in a while a smile will escape my face during this opportunistic period of catch-up sleep. It comes from the realization that one day, all this will be over. The steady progress of the village projects that I had supervised over the weekend fed hope that it will come to be. Besides, having popped by at my village church for a Harambee, I would have done my bit in making ingo a better community for now and that future.
However, this past weekend of the 13th to 15th of March 2020, I made good of the advice from the WHO and the government on social distancing as a key strategy to stem the spread of COVID-19. This is to say that I didn’t partake in this beloved pilgrimage.
You all know what they say about us Luhyas residing and working in towns and our love of travelling upcountry at the slightest chance. I tell you this aspect of life in mulembe in the time of coronavirus has been a blow hard to take. I didn’t travel home and I feel empty.
Bindu bichenjanga
Further, offering no comfort to my willed sacrifice of personal comforts for the benefit of the collective, I couldn’t help but wonder how it would have been if I had traveled home. Would I have adjusted to life in Mulembe in this time of coronavirus? For make no mistake, a contemporary Luhya saying, immortalized in the crossover hit, bindu bichenjanga, serves apt warning.
For the record, from what Scientists are learning about the novel virus, it might be a good thing that I didn’t travel. Not only are the elderly (above age 60) more vulnerable to the disease, but also unfettered contact with more resilient younger people who sometimes may not be exhibiting any symptoms, exposes the elderly to greater risk of getting COVID-19. Thus the need for more precautions when caring for the elderly in order to minimize risk of putting them at risk of coronavirus.
Life in Mulembe in the time of coronavirus: What ‘no handshakes’ means to our ways
Imagine checking into the village and refusing to shake hands! I reckon that the government’s message of no handshakes to limit spread of the virus might have percolated deep into the villages. If not, please help spread the word to your kith and kin on no handshakes to avoid getting COVID-19; Nonetheless, I imagine the difficulty of having to explain this to an elderly senje, khukhu or guka.
Why did I not want to shake their hands?
Why would you refuse their blessings? They’d wonder. The times might be unprecedented for most of us, but outright eerily strange and lonely for them. It must be hard for our parents and grandparents to come around what had became of you.
This is because lengthy, vigorous handshakes are our way of life. You and I from mulembe know well that our elderly loved ones are particularly keen on shaking hands. Be it as contemporaries, or when it’s as a sign of something more meaningful; like when they shake hands with their progeny.
I don’t know when it started (possibly with the advent of HIV/AIDs) but somewhere along life, our grandparents stopped spitting on us as blessings. Instead, they opted for the vigorous handshake to communicate their pleasure at meeting us and also as a way of blessing us at the same go. Now, with coronavirus they have to quit that too. Eh, life in mulembe in the time of coronavirus!
Cultural faux pas: Will come to pass, or the beginning of a new norm?
Over and above this love for the handshake, wishing each other mulembe is a central tenet of our way of life. Let me let you in on a secret, when you find yourself among any of the 18 houses of Mulembe Nation, first thing, greet people. By greeting I mean shake their hands. Wasalmie kwa mkono. Shake their hands brother, merely saluting them is considered rude. If you don’t shake their hands, you will come across as one who ‘sees themselves’. You’ll be acting up like a kettle holding hot tea.
This is how it has always been.
In fact, growing up, failing to greet an elder was a sign of disrespect. This delinquency was enough to warrant a few strokes of lukhendu. I don’t know how it will be in the future, but life now in mulembe in this time of coronavirus is weird even for the kids. Basically, its a rewiring of a people.
It is for this reason that I honestly worry about my people adjusting to this aspect of life in mulembe in the time of coronavirus. I wonder, how will the people of mulembe measure each others temperatures to determine warmth of the spirit of Mulembe by throwing greetings? Hii corona riswa! However, all is not lost. As always, in the ways of our forefathers , we find answers.
Replacing the handshake, other ways to wish each other mulembe in the times of coronavirus, and mean it
If you are Bukusu, well, you in for a bit of luck. The sheer number of different greetings in Bukusu should serve you well during these times. This is because the words by themselves convey the warmth. Thus, they will serve you in all manner of situations. Actually, all the native languages of the 18 houses of mulembe share in this uniqueness. Therefore, for an erudite speaker of the language, adjusting to life in mulembe in the time of coronavirus might be a simple case of incorporating new gestures.
Which gestures?
The gesture that comes to mind, one that I have seen before and I think is popular, involves raising ones arms and waving at the subject of your salutations. Once they acknowledge your gesture with a similar action, you drop your arms. As you do this, you bring your hands to clasp together and to rest in such a position that they are close to your chest. But unlike in the Indian greeting Namaste, your hands are not held steady but are moved severally forwards and backwards in a some kind of nod.
A religion ahead of it’s time
Whilst all these maneuvers call for some adjustments in our every day routines, members of one spirit/roho church popular in mulembe are ahead of the times. In this religion that I will not name, members do not greet anyone by hand. They rather express greetings by saying mulembe while clapping their hands in staccato like rhythm. How about that?
Trolling Luhyas: Of food memes, washing hands and vines
Everyone knows my people love food. It is often joked that our appetite means that we always have space for a feast anytime anywhere. Culturally, food is important. For instance, we do have specific foods for specific occasions. Moreover, we also find reasons to feast in many occasions – including during mourning and funerals. Truthfully, being Luhya requires that one doesn’t shy away from food because we believe food binds our warm spirits together.
However, modern sedentary lifestyles have it that we can’t always enjoy food like we would love to. There’s watching calories and all. However, we still craft opportunities to eat together. For example if a group is to travel together to a distant destination, our planning must include deliberate scheduling for meals.
For instance, we will ask those coming from far to come for a sleep over. The purpose of the sleep over is so that we may have an opportunity to share a meal together. We will then plan for their evening and morning meals before departing for the journey early the following day. Therefore be it a khuboa chinyinja ceremony, kuvika kesegese or khutiukha devoid a shared meal, it is incomplete.
This love for communion over food has made us, the Luhya, the but of many a jokes and memes. A popular pun has it that we the sons and daughters of Mulembe do not wash our hands unnecessarily. If you asked Wafula from the village to wash his hands, he will ask you what he is going to eat afterwards.
The butt of jokes
Jokes aside, culturally, it is not proper etiquette to have visitors wash their hands before food is on the table. Thus, don’t expect my uncle Khabingili to roll up his sleeves and disturb himself to wash his hands unless he sees a steaming plate of obusuma placed on the table.
That said, moving forward, I expect jokes and comedy vines themed on this our love for food. But with a twist. They will be juxtaposed on frequent hand washing as a strategy to prevent COVID-19. Truthfully, I can’t wait to be entertained by the very finest of non-Luhya and Luhya comedians. I speak of the likes of Mulamwah, Choffuri and others. For at times like this, we all could do with a joke. Indeed, nothing is more therapeutic than laughing at oneself. And boy, doesn’t the world need some of that right now!
I therefore hope-pray that social media gets awash with various versions of the stereotypical Luhya adjusting to his new life in Mulembe in the time of coronavirus. I picture this much loved character of Kenyan comedy in various states of confusion after being asked to wash their hands using alcohol based sanitizer or soap and water.
The confusion will come about as the frequent handwashing will not be in preparation for food; but as a strategy to reduce the spread of the novel coronavirus. And that the jokes on a serious matter isn’t necessarily a bad thing. In fact, it is a good thing. As Vox reports, such lighthearted take on the serious business that hand washing as it is right now, could be an unexpected ally in the fight against coronavirus.
