mybindi

THE ART OF BEING SMALL…

 

There is a tall white man pushing his 3-year-old daughter on a toddlers cart while seriously trying to control his dog to move in the same direction he is. If you know how animals behave, you should know how that turned out. It is a hot Sunday afternoon in Gigiri. The scorching sun did not seem to give them a break.I still have a long walk to the UN and I just had to enjoy the scenery. The dog kept moving towards the middle of the road and he tried to control both his kid and the dog while jogging at the same time and frankly, it was disastrous. Maybe it was not because of Mr Doggy who could not control his threshold of distraction but probably because men are poor at multi-tasking. All this while the kid never seemed to notice that anything is wrong; that they kept moving towards the middle of the road and away from it. She was probably thinking how her dad is the genius; how he just invented a game, or how her dad is some sort of hero and cars had to make way for him to get through or even better her thoughts might be way distant.

Surely, what do kids think about? Are they ever in deep thought about how they are going to go to the park with Lily the next day, or how Kiki has a snob of a brother who is hot and who she would love to talk to. Hehehee, those are adult-like thoughts. They are somewhat complicated. Kids, however, deal more with why things are the way they are. They question even the stupidest of the questions.

Daughter…‘Why are there stars at night?’

Dad…’Because God created them’

Daughter…’why did God create them’

Dad…”Because He felt like doing so…” A blue Subaru with golden rims overtakes.

Daughter…”I did not hear you, daddy”

Dad…”Because He wanted to help the moon light up the night”

And the conversation about stars leads to another convo about lions which then lead to why giraffes are so tall and then to why Johnny Bravo has broad shoulders.

Shortly, the trio becomes a blur and after trudging up the hill, I finally reach the third gate of the UN. It looks deserted with bored to death guards who seem even happier while you pass by. The security of this place is outstanding. One can only get in if you are a staff member or a staff member signs you in. If you were a staff member yesterday and your contract expired today morning then darling, you need to call someone who will sign you in. I reach the gatehouse and feel even more tiresome after I notice that the guards at the gate were not the same ones I found yesterday which meant that I had to explain my visit for almost five times.

There is a very good reason why guards have to wear uniforms and I did not understand it until I met the lady guard. Her nails were well-manicured, her long hair held tightly into a bun not forgetting her tall stature and beautiful chocolate skin that could easily pass for a model without that uniform. Her English grammar was fine. She could put on an expensive suit and go for the United Nations Governing Council meeting and still play the part without question.

After searching for my name in all the documents they had, they did not seem to find it and their frowns started doubting my visit. I mean what a small creature like me could do to their outstanding security levels is unexplainable. I could not fathom at how much power these people gave me. I suddenly felt very important. They ultimately made me want to be a bad person so that I would be worthy of their doubt. They gave hopes to my dream of being a sniper. But that is for another life. Another life where God would deem it wise if we executed our own judgements. Till then, this particular dream is rendered invalid.

I was just about to make a call when one of the guards I had met earlier arrived in a dusty car grooving to Ken Wa Maria vibes. With his big personality, he shouted my name and the two guards lit up. The lady then jokingly scolded him for his dressing and the two exchanged words just for the fun of it. I was then given a “delivery’ tag which was my pass into the premises. Before I left, the lady then gave me some advice…

“When you grow up, and you start dating, raise your standards so that men like him would not even think of asking you out.”

Giggling, I then wondered what she meant with growing up. Come on, am already grown up and people my age started dating decades ago. But if you happen to have a small body like I do, then you’ll understand why people always think you are still in high school. The funny part is that year after year, I always seem to be in Form Two. Kwani I never proceed? Even worse, I’d have probably shown them my ID card and I would still pass for a Form Two student. I was in Form Two seven years ago. Being small is an art. Everyone interprets your physical stature how they would like to understand it. With moments such as when a speaker says “I hope hapa hakuna mtu ako under 18” and all of a sudden people turn their heads to quickly glance at you like you are an amusement or before you enter a club with friends and the bouncer gives you one of those suspicious looks then asks for your ID or while walking with your friend and all of a sudden you are their small sister or your colleagues using your height as a reference point.

However, for every bad thing in life, there are more good things to tip the balance. You just have to take it positively. If someone thinks you are their small sister, the better, the more sisters you have. It is also a plus that you age slower that other people do. When people glance at you because they could relate you with what the speaker is talking about, then consider yourself a piece of art. Why strive to fit in, when it’s better to stand out? Everything in life is about perception. Our perception defines us. It is just the way we look at things!

 

 

 

Comments (5)

  1. George

    Ndaaanii😂

    Reply
    1. admin (Post author)

      hahahaa..
      Ndani ndanii

      Reply
  2. Mr. Festus

    Love your article… wish to read more of this

    Reply
  3. Stan

    Awesome Staff

    Reply
  4. Thomas

    Awesome work!

    Reply

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *