Benito Z. Swu
Either Babu Ayindo has purposely left out the little background history of Mirembe’s grandmother and what happened to her so loved, larger than a normal,cat, or Mirembe himself had not told about it to Babu Ayindo. This, yours’ truly can say so because one knows about this. Back somewhere in the late 80’s, while just surfing through the many autobiographical books that is there in the State library in Kohima, the hard covered copy of Mirembe’s autobiography was that one book which one thoroughly relished reading it.Mirembe’s grandmother was actually a South African from a village called Urusula, born and brought up during the dark times of apartheid in that country. To cut a long story short, she had the misfortune of experiencing apartheid even after Mandela. Only this time of a different kind from her own black community. As such, she was only too happy to get married to a Kenyan and thereby move to her husband’s country and village.
Mirembe’s grandmother was a great lover of domestic animals like cats and dogs. However she preferred not having a big dog because earlier, a year and half back, her dog had eaten up her cat literally alive.
The very meeting that was chaired by Mirembe’s uncle Caleb had already decreed that the egg stealing and eating grandmother’s cat had to go because cats are cats. Much like the big cats which having tasted human blood become maneaters, grandmother’s cat’s palate too had already developed the taste of eggs, which tomorrow will upgrade to the taste for small hatched chicks if at all any eggs are left. However, even the entire village inhabitants knew about grandmother’s love of her this cat, and her very short fuse. A stickler of morals, stealing and telling lies to her was taboo.
But what had been decreed had to be implemented. However, Mirembe, living with his grandmother under one roof could not fight his conscience and broke the omretta. Not surprisingly, grandmother boiled and made a hue and cry over the conspiracy, but again, surprisingly, cooled down dramatically. She ordered Mirembe to let her know the minute details of the conspiratorial second meeting which Caleb had summoned the next day. Having lived with grandmother for so long, Mirembe could guess what his grandmother might be thinking. The earlier dog whom she equally loved had to go for eating the cat. And today her beloved cat had sinned in much, if not more, the same manner. The way grandmother handbrushed the cat’s back convinced Mirembe that grandmother knew what is coming was inevitable. The next early morning, her son Caleb’s hungry dog which had very unusually unleashed itself was seen running and chasing the cat round and round grandmother’s hut. Grandmother had just left the hut to respond to her bowel’s nature call. On her return, it was but all too late.
But on hindsight, forget about the cat. Grandmother did not even spare her own brother for just eating a bowl of sorghum porridge out of turn. Just imagine, getting banished, not just from the vicinity of her presence and hut, but out to the frontier, for no less than twelve weeks – all just for eating out of turn. She would then say, “it depends on case to case, or from case to case. But if overlooked, even her sons, daughter-in-laws, and even her grandchildren will start trodding over her and take her for granted. This I cannot allow.” What can Mirembe say, but to prayerfully fold his hands into a namaste and mumble, “Yes indeed, Grandma, yes indeed. Amen.”
