"You are nothing but a shitty son!"
This was the last thing Kasaine heard from his elder brother.
Both of their parents were already six feet under by that time. What has always remained strange to me was how both died in different locations; Kasaine's mother was coming back from a job in Syokimau when her vehicle got stopped, and upon realization of who she was, the officers wasted no time dragging her out of the car, and brutally shooting her dead.
As for his father, it was a neighbour who gave him up, and the dreaded Mungiki came flooding in his home. He did whatever he could to negotiate with the Mungiki, but since he wasn't who the Mungiki protected, he met his brutal fate through a machete.
You heard people running late into the night, holding your breath and thought(s) as whoever that was took flight.
Mungiki motorcycles enforced with turbo exhausts sped down roads where a few months before the elections, neighbours lived peacefully amongst each other, regardless of what tribe they were from.
I always wondered how political divides managed to change the mindsets of Kenyans after every five years, considering how during those five years, we all suffered from the wide and blatant corruption President Ruto showed in his first term.
The moment he began his first term in office, every Kenyan had radically sworn that no Kenyan of Kikuyu descent was ever going to be President.
President Ruto didn't say this in particular, but his actions towards the Kenyan people, making their lives harder as availability of money, employment and resources became worse showed just how loud actions really were.
As a result, even part-time jobs became hard to find.
Hunger and malnutrition, alongside depression and drug abuse, spread massively across Kenyan youth living in urban settings, who were yet to find employment/internships, with even the ones living upcountry feeling the heat. Brain drain became prevalent among Kenyan youth, as a good number went abroad to try their luck in other countries, with some, unfortunately, never coming back to Kenya.
Kasaine and I shared one thing in common; we were both half-caste Maasais, with our mothers being from the Kikuyu community.
We became close friends after we met in an open casting call at the University of Nairobi, realizing that we shared a great deal of experiences and ideologies.
We both realized we were always treated by our own families as if we didn't have the right to succeed in our own countries, so deep within ourselves, as we navigated the journey of being the odd-one-out in the family, we honestly didn't feel like we belonged to the families which gave birth to us.
In fact, we didn't feel Kenyan.
We never felt at home because to us, those homes we slept in were simply buildings to us; buildings which were built for the sake of the brag during a family gathering.
My name is Samburu Ndwiga, and I can tell you for certain, 2007 was a period when Kenyans realized the horrors behind political blindness and emotional reactions towards 'our people', a term which cemented the stupidity tribalistic politics engulfed on all of us.
"What surprised me was the fact that my father was in the Air Force in the 80's, and was among the ones who fled to Tanzania in 1984," said Kasaine, as we sat down.
"So, basically, both parents met while wearing uniform?"
"You could say that," replied Kasaine. "Though it'll be a huge task, finding him."
"If you're not sure you'll find your elder brother in Tanzania, there's no point in dealing with him," I replied, understanding the uphill task which lay ahead in finding a 40-year old first born who probably was more pre-occupied with raising his children than providing any security for a sibling who was walking away from manipulative pasts.
Kasaine's father was a Maasai, which clearly underlined the many times he had obeyed the Christian command of filling up the world with us children; children who knew nothing except obedience, while deep down questioning why in Africa, the child will be seen as always wrong while the parent will be seen as always right.
Every Kenyan had opened their eyes to the impunity which politicians from the current government had embroiled itself in; with others even conducting importing quota businesses, and waiting for street prices to soar before clinching unbelievable profits after their products get sold out to the people who cannot clinch a part-time job for they keep being asked about their work experience.
Investors had begun moving south to Tanzania, making the Kenyan shilling become more unstable as opportunities dried up in front of our eyes.
The first time folks our age held demonstrations, chanting, "RUTO MUST GO!!", Kenyans never expected the demonstrations to bear fruit; people from the previous generations said it to us Millenials and Gen Z, "You are the ones to deliver us from these chains!"
Anyone who was born before us Millenials and Gen Z was the type who was shut down with whips to the point submission came naturally from within oneself, as Moi required yes-men to keep him in power for years on end. The moment you questioned anything Moi implemented, you were a finished soul, never to be seen again in life.
The day the GEN Z riots began, two years after Ruto was sworn in, was the day we had made up our minds; Kenya was no longer home to us, and we felt it from within.
As the riots continued, abductions began getting frequent, and people all over the country started being genuinely concerned with the disappearances of youths seen from CCTV cameras being bundled into unmarked cars right in the middle of the CBD.
"We only have a week, Kasaine," I said to him, fully aware of how Kenyan youth were now missing people, and the riots got fuelled more by demands for better governance, and the production of the missing youth.
"A week to ensure we cross the border,and not run into the Mungiki," replied Kasaine.
"You must remember, though, Tanzanians don't do much English," I replied, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.
"Yeah, and I hear they're a whole lot more strict," came the reply.
***
It took Kasaine's elder brother a few minutes to notice, with growing horror, that something was missing in the building.
Something had changed from what was the usual.
He was used to getting in the house blind drunk, but for a bizarre reason, he hadn't been so drunk.
He noticed that the usual white light from Kasaine's bedroom was gone, and the door was a bit open, left ajar.
Upon opening the door, he couldn't believe his eyes.
The whole room had not only been washed, but also, it was now empty.
Kasaine's clothes weren't around, and in his shock, the message sunk in...
"So you think you've found your footing in life?"
He had no idea that Kasaine had found his own footing in life, and was already embarking on a journey which didn't involve any siblings. This time around, Kasaine was prepared for his own decisions, and whatever price they came with.