When forgotten relatives call to ask city girl ‘tuma M-pesa’

Growing up does not mean growing out of everything.

I had this realisation the other day when I was going through some of my old things to give away.

Of course, there are some physical things we will for sure outgrow, like clothes and shoes and such.

But other things, like love and support from our families, for example, we can never grow out of, no matter how old we are.

One thing I have been thinking I was ready to let go of was what my family thinks of me. Basically, their expectations of me.

Which is very deluded of me because expectations will always be present in our lives.

I just thought to myself that if one day I woke up and no one expected anything from me, then I would be among the happiest people alive.

It would be one less thing to keep me up at night.

But there are always people who will depend on you and have very high expectations of you at one point or another in your life.

What made me think about these thoughts is a phone call I received from my mother about three weeks ago.

She was in the upcountry, where she was born.

She was attending a funeral of one of her cousins and was staying at her mother’s (my grandmother’s) house.

So, like a classic African mother, she ambushed me with the phone call, which turned out to be my grandmother wanting to talk to me instead.

“I have someone here who wants to speak to you,” my mother said.

“Mum, I’m not ready to speak to your cousins, whom I can’t even remember,” I said.

“You don’t want to speak to your poor old grandmother now?” my grandmother said (those two are very good at guilt-tripping people).

Anyway, she and I have a long conversation, where she tells me about how she has been and I tell her the same.

She talks about some cousins I cannot remember and tells me how much she has missed me.

I had missed her as well, to be honest, but I just can never find the time to go visit her. Not to mention the fact that I haven’t been to see her in almost five years.

Basically, I’m a terrible granddaughter to her.

She said that she had called to remind me that I still have a grandmother (more guilt), and not to forget about her while I live my ‘posh’ life in Nairobi.

“Sometimes, just call me and say hello or send me something on M-pesa. Okay, sweetheart?”

“Of course, Shosh,” I tell her.

When my mother takes the phone back, she also tells me not to forget about my grandmother and other relatives on that side of the country.

Which I translated as you have neglected your family in that part of the country, so whenever you get the time, call them or send them something to brighten their day.

The thing about expectations is that you can end up living down to them and disappointing everyone.

Now that I have more people to add to my Black Tax list, I better find myself a second job or something like that.