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Many things have been written about me; some good and some not so good. I have been featured in both the Print
and Electronic media, but then I have to say something about myself once again.
I am going to blow my own trumpet and do a bit of chest-thumping. But don't blame me; blame my inheritance. Lipukas are braggats
and arrogant to a fault.
But first things first. I was born in Mombasa, that old historical city along the shores of the Indian Ocean in Kenya on the
1st of November many seasons ago; to be exact, long after the Hunger of the Locusts but before the Hunger of Yellow Flour.
Now my mum tells me that when I was born I weighed a whole of 10 pounds. That is 4 kilogrammes to those of you who are metric.
And she was only 16. And I made the loudest noise ever; whether in celebration or protest, I will never know. I am still making
even louder noises today.
And then I went on strike. I refused to crawl. Yes, I know children must crawl, but that was not for me. I learnt to sit,
like all proper children, then refused to move. You see, I realised that as long as I just sat there, I would get all the
services I needed. All I had to do was to holler and somebody would be around to do my biding.
So I sat for a full year, and went to sleep like any kid. Come 1st January, I decided it was time to spring another surprise.
On this day, those many years ago, there used to be a roving band of local traditional performers. They would go round the
whole village beating drums; dancing and singing, and if you wanted them to sing your praises, you simply provided coconut
wine, and they would stay until the wine was finished.
Well, no coconut wine was provided for them at our place as the performers went by, so I decided to protest in kind. I first
watched then go past, then stood up and ran after them....well tottered, but go after them I did, much to the consternation
of those who had given up ef ever seeing me walk. All this is true, nothing but the truth, so help me God. My mother told
me,so did my grandmothers, aunts and uncles.
I am the first-born of 7 brothers and 3 sisters. And life was good when I was young. My father was well-paid. When I reached
the age to go to school, I was sent back to Mazeras village. You see most of my early life was spent in Mombasa. I was taller
than usual so looked older. In fact when I joined school I joined students who were far older. You see in those days, it was
believed that we did not know about the dates of our birth. My parents did, but we had to go through a very strange interview
to join school. You had to stretch either your right or left arm over and above your head to touch the opposite ear. If you
could not do that you were too young. I was tall so I had long arms. Those who were shorter than me were left behind amid
protests.
Somewhere along the way, my father bought a motorbike. This was good because he moved to our home instead of staying in Mombasa.
But he then had an accident, and this was to become a turning point to our lives. The accident caused my father to be paralysed.
He couldin't work and we lost our income.
Our lifestyle changed. Mother became the breadwinner. She started baking buns for sale and would sell traditional beer over
the weekend. I was the first-born, and so had to help her. Every morning I would take the buns and sell them before preparing
myself for school.
Please do not ask how it happened, but when we sat for the Primary school examination, I was first in the district. The second
was a girl who was my classmate. We were both to join a national school, but my mother could not afford it, so I joinen a
new school, in my district.
There were times when I was sent back home due to lack of school fees. But somehow, I managed to finish my studies in High
school. I passed with a higher second Division and was called to continue with my studies. But this was not to be. We had
no money. My younger brother was out of school due to lack of school fees. I abandoned my studies and sought work. I got a
part-time job and took my brother back to school.
How did I become a broadcaster? The truth be said, I never wanted to be a broadcaster. It was not even in my mind. I had my
sights set on being a lawyer. But while in School, I had participated in a debating programme which was transmitted on Radio.
Now, something does not add up. Somewhere, it is written that the Lipukas are a political family. Very true. The first Member
of our area after independence was an uncle. Members of my family are in one way or another involved in politics. Sister Fenny
is the most active.
What happened soon after my father had the motobike accident was that most of his friends disappeared. So did some of the
close relatives. I know, this will annoy quite a number of people, but the truth has to be said, right? We were largely on
our own, with mother as the sole breadwinner until I started working.
My father was very phylosofical about all this and just told us never to abandon each other. And we stuck together. But we
are all grown up now, and we are making money. We are not the richest around, but we are very comfortable.
I never saw my paternal grandfather. He died before my father married my mother. I have seen his pictures, and they say I
look like him. He was tall, and so am I.
I was not the first Samson. My older uncle Daniel, had a son and named him Samson. But the first Samson is not considered
the head of the Family. I am. This is because of some funny tradition. If you are named after a person who has died, and he
held a certain position, you get to inherit his position and land. That fell to me.
So in my community I am called MZEE or BABA. Mzee refers to an oldman in Kiswahili, but it is also a title of honour normally
bestowed on a person as a sign of respect. Okay, I at first resented being called Mzee, but I am now used to it. You see it
has it's compensations. You get served faster. So what you find is that people who are many years older than me call me Mzee.
It is not a title used on anyone. Same applies to baba. This simply means father and it is normally used by close relatives,
including my mother, uncles, aunts, all those I may call grandmather or grandfather, nephews and nieces and practically every
child around. So I am an uncle to many, a father to many.
And what was it like, my childhood? Well, I was my father's favourite. When I joined nursery school, my paternal grandmother
was the teacher. I was named after her husband, so I could do no wrong.
But this had to change when I joined class one. My own cousin was my class teacher, and she obviously had something against
me.....I just thought she would give me some preferential treatment but no such luck. And my mother supported her......In
upper primary school was my uncle Zachariah...oh dear. Have you ever been taught by ab uncle who thinks you are a spoilt brat?
I have on many occasions been requested to go back to my original home and inherit my grandfather's position and land. I have
also been requested to run for a political seat. But politics is not for me. As for the land and the traditional position,
I think it is out of date and reclaiming land could lead to problems even among a willing subject as this would mean displacing
many.
Somewhere you will eventually see my pictures. You will also see the Lipuka Family Tree. Sadly you will not see any pictures
of my marriage. I have yet to walk down the aisle with anyone, much to the disappointment of the traditionalists.
I have only fallen in love with one woman in my entire life, but things did not work out the way I thought they would. It
is something I do not like talking about since she is now married and has a family of her own. We will let it rest there.
Of course I will tell you more about my life in other pages. I hope that whatever I come up with will be interesting. I can
only thank you for haviung read about me, and I hope you will sometime contact me.
SAMSON LIPUKA
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