The only man that villagers knew who worked in a big Mzungu (White Man) Hotel in Nairobi came from 2 ridges away from my rural home. The man was the uncle to one of the friends that I grew up with. Apart from being envious of my friend for having such a well placed uncle, I also enjoyed the privilege of getting to shake the hand of the great man whenever he turned up while I was visiting my friend’s house.
Many years later – about 2 years ago – I visited that particular Hotel in town for the first time for a cup of coffee with friends. Just before we left, I decided to visit the bathroom. And I cannot exactly describe the feeling that overcame me when I looked into the big mirror and saw the reflection of my friend’s uncle tiredly leaning on the wooden handle of a mop taking a break from his chores of cleaning the bathroom floor. He was wearing a brown uniform with a cute beige collar and shiny buttons. None of us had changed very much physically and we instantly recognized each other. We politely enquired about one another’s welfare over the years, and exchanged information about our respective families’ wellbeing. When I came out of the restroom, I was surprised to realize that I was embarrassed at having broken the larger-than-life myth that my friend’s uncle’s job at the hotel carried in the village over all the years I have known him.
A few months later, I was to look at the hotel from a distance and think about all those times I hear someone say, “I know a guy who works there!”, and realized that people mostly do that to elevate their own status in the eyes of their friends. And so the next time I want to impress someone, I will not gleefully point at the hotel and say; “I know a guy who works there…he is the guy who cleans the loos and is from my village!” How does that sound? And yet, ever since I have known him, I can attest that the man is a Loving husband who travels upcountry every weekend to be with his wife, and an excellent father who works very hard to put his children through school and afford a comfortable life for them. I also remember his interest in our school work, encouraging us to work hard and pass all our exams with flying colors. And yet if allowed, one afternoon of finding him at his work station will take away the vision of a great man and replace it with one of an old tired one leaning heavily on a wooden handle of a mop.
It is this knowledge of a person for who he or she truly is and embracing them in Love and acceptance that means something to them. Everyone has an area in their life that has always been less than glamorous, perhaps that even needs to be carefully concealed lest it pops up and surprised everyone else. You and I yearn – sometimes even demand – to be understood and to be assured that despite all our known and unknown foibles, we are alright. I am sure you know what comfort there is in the assurance that even though you might not measure up to all the standards that society expects you to conform to, there are still people who consider you OK in their eyes.
