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I went shopping last Sunday. By shopping, I mean patiently pushing the trolley and trailing the woman of the house (yes, it’s Valentine’s season, so I can disclose that I can be meek and submissive).
That’s not to say I don’t do shopping. I sprint in and out of shopping malls, usually with stuff packed under my arm, wrapped in newspapers, etc., because Kenyans have peculiar habits that drive me up the wall.
Some try jumping the queue in one instance, a mannerless man dumped his items at the weighing machine and said he only had two items, so he should go first. At other times, you leave the trolley to pick something and find someone has side-stepped the cart and positioned themselves ahead.
But last Sunday was special. Stepping outside of Naivas supermarket in Kitengela Mall, I was gently pushing the cart when a little girl, barely ten, pushed my trolley and slightly knocked it to the side. I thought she had lost control of her contraption, so I stood and waited for her to steady it.
She did not stop. She wheeled the cart to the inside of the elevator, whose door was ajar, where her mother and other female relatives sashayed in. I had been edged out by a tot that hadn’t even cut her milk teeth, as her family applauded. Not a single reprimand to this aggressive tot with no respect for senior citizens! One day, we’ll reap the fruits of the monsters we’re raising.
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By Peter Kimani