Mama Shujaa

A first look at the memoir of Kenya's pioneer writer Rebeka Njau , author of The Sacred Seed , Books Horizon (2003), Ripples In The Pool , Heinemann (1978) and The Scar (1965) . Here is the first chapter of her soon to be completed memoir. In Quest of Justice, a Memoir by Rebeka Njau Chapter One WHEN I decided to write the story of my life, I struggled to find the best way to express my deep and complex emotions. Finally, in memory of the poetry of my earlier years as a writer, I chose to open this memoir with the following lines: My ears are plugged up By poisonous spittle of a grimy tongue; Times without number, Little birds have been twittering, joyfully at my backyard, But I cannot hear them. Falsity, scattered like seeds Everywhere I tread, Has driven me to extreme bitterness and pain, Making me feel powerless to forgive and forget. Like a piece of rock that stands on its own, I stand alone beside a sweet-scented bush To ease my heav...

As a child I often wished I could climb the Ma u Mau Freedo m Fighter behind our home. If Samwel Wanjau had carved a flight of steps up the back of a leg, I would have ascended the twelve feet to the fierce dreadlocks, and settled a few scores. " I'm the king of the castle, You're the dirty rascal. I'm the king of the castle, Get down, you dirty rascal !" The taunt, directed at my older brother, would have penetrated the canopy of eucalyptus trees and instilled the fear of god into the bullies of Ridgeways Estate. Instead, I climbed the Jacaranda tree in front of the house and daydreamed amidst clusters of fragrant, purple, trumpet-shaped blooms... If Wanjau had carved an aesthetically "palatable" symbol of Kenya's fight for independence, as he was commissioned, the Mau Mau Freedom Fighter would be standing in front of the Kenya Parliament building today, celebrating forty-five years of independence from British colonial rule. Instead, Wanjau conv...

As you complete your memoir, please tell me, again. Tell me about the passion that resulted in a tragedy, in one act, the prize-winning scar . Remind me about the manuscript I helped type: Ripples in the pool , that unleashed a plethora of discourses on the protagonist, a prostitute, a mother... and quests for origins. Revive in me the drama surrounding the discovery of the hypocrite amongst us. Was that indeed a turning point in life? Tell me about Kenyan women heroes like you, and their mystical power. So that I may continue to be inspired by my uriithi; rooted in East Africa, transmuted in the Diaspora. So that I am reminded of the significance of correcting stereotypes. So that I am appreciative of ingenious oral narratives captured in those exciting folktales. Awaken in me The Sacred Seed (s) from which dreams of love and hope are created. So that I may pass the tradition on to your grandchildren. Carry me forward with the sweet harmony of your love, as indeed you have, ...