Growing up Luhya in the 80s, 90s was the most wholesome experience for a child. Enjoy another hilarious one from my childhood: Out of my dreams, you!
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I remember it vividly. It was a Saturday morning like any another. Being it that papa worked six days a week and school meant that we rarely met in the mornings, the surest way to catch dad if one wanted any of their 1000 requests (that any child who believes their parent is a hero) heard, one had to be up early, as Sundays were for church. So, most Saturdays, five thirty would find the whole bunch of the nine of us up.
We’d all gather around the dinning table doing, or pretending to do, our school work.
Then, as was routine, some minutes to six, the door to mum and dad’s bedroom would slowly creak open. Even that early, on the sixth day of him waking up as the cock crows, dad always had a swift way about him. His assured ways meant that whomever wanted to catch his eye and drop their request, had to time their move perfectly and ensure they were the ones poring him his tea, lest one of the nimbler ones amongst us jumped the queue.
So we all got accustomed to jumping into action, on the familiar creaky sound of their bedroom door. You had to be the first one to catch our old man’s attention, as he made a beeline to the table for his quick breakfast of black tea and mum’s hot kamapwoni, as was usual.
But that Saturday morning, he headed straight for the door to the living room. If you are wondering why Saturday, well, he got paid by the week, every Friday.
Went, out my dreams
I remember everything well. Earlier that week, following intense negotiations and difficult horse trading with my siblings, it had been agreed this Saturday was to be my day. So when he made for the door rather than the breakfast table, I panicked. Any slight delay and a devious one among us would grab his tea mug before me. Triple jeopardy if that happened: first, a devious sibling would take my moment. Secondly, this would mean, possibly, another eight weeks before I got a chance to hand in my request for a new ball. A ‘real’ foot ball made of leather and inflated by air, that I had been dreaming of all Christmas. Then, to rub the salt in, all week I’d be the butt of jokes and teasing from my siblings.
With such high stakes on play, I did a quick scan hoping to find something that I could leverage on and swing the tide back my way. Quickly, I noticed that papa was all dressed up for work, but still had his bath slippers on. Unusual; as he never stepped out of the house in his slippers.
Shortly, he was back with the twig of lufiufiu tree in his hand. More confused we were because we had been good girls and boys. So why the spanking coming our way? Even more out of sync was that it was dad with the stick. Dad was our buddy. He never canned us. In our household, discipline was mum’s gig.
Moreover, lukhendu in hand, he headed straight towards our eldest sister! The one he dotingly called ‘mum’. The apple of his eye. Our sister who was the bright one, the neat one, the one who always made her bed! Without saying a word he rapped my sister’s legs with the twig.
It was over too fast. Maybe too fast even for his victim, as all big sis had was a look of shock on her face. On retrospect, her not letting a wail out, ruined everything for us the spectators. This is because we were kind of waiting to hear her cry so that we could laugh at her for once.
“Maayi get out of my dreams!”
Dad said in his characteristic low but frim voice. Silence. Then mum burst’s out laughing, uncontrollably so. Starting with the youngest, myself, we joined mum, and now dad, in laughing. We laughed and laughed because they were laughing, until big sister overcame her shock and started laughing too. Later we came to learn a new thing about our ways.
When person A who dreams about person B, on meeting person B, person A is asked by our culture to take a branch from lufiufiu tree and cane person B. They do this as they warn him to get out of their dreams. So what is the canning meant to achieve? For starters, as it was in papa’s case with big sis, it is all a show of affection and thus, it shouldn’t be done with force or using a big stick.
For more interesting stuff on Luhya interpretation of dreams, check out
Lost in translation: What it means among the Luhya when you dream of someone – meet an interesting Luhya tradition
The Luhya of Western Kenya had a body of knowledge which they relied on to make sense of dreams. Join us as we rediscover an old art lost in translation and retell forgotten traditions, as we reveal what it means among the Luhya when you dream of someone.
The Meaning of 10 common dreams according to Luhya interpretation of dreams: The good, bad, embarrassing, naughty, hilarious all revealed
Luhyas don’t just dream. We see in our sleep. In fact, in most Luhya dialects, the Luhya word for dream will stem from words that mean ‘to see’. For instance, among our Bukusu brothers the word for dreams is kamaroro, meaning visions or sightings. This is because in Luhya culture, dreams are a medium by which the world of ancestors communicates with the living. Further, in keeping with mysticism associated with dreams, among the people of mulembe, dreams have horoscopic value as well. Therefore, when we try to find meaning in the strange happenings of the world of dreams, we do so in the hope that we will be able to understand and explain life as it happens. As such, a common theme in Luhya interpretation of dreams is actively seeking for clues of what is going to befall or is currently ongoing in a family or clan.
