How I Grew Up With My Siblings

My sister-in-law Sheila Mareka once told me that she wished she had more siblings in her family when she was growing up. So it seems I was lucky to have lived with four brothers in the '90s when I was a boy. We shared stories, argued, laughed and criticized one another - the stuff of legends.

Joe Kagigite, my eldest brother, was an engaging brother when we lived together in the '90s. The first night he was away from home after he joined Kijabe Boys' High School in 1996, I shed tears of sorrow. His absence saddened me.

Mum sometimes asked Joe to run her shop. One Saturday afternoon in 2001 as I was heading home from school with my classmate Damariot Lempee, we found him at the shop. He greeted us with unaffected warmth, something that impressed Damariot so much that he later on told me that Joe was very handsome.

Bob Njinju, my second eldest brother, was as tough as old boots. During his upper primary school years, he sometimes marshalled boys for a march before they raised the Kenyan flag on the school parade ground. It was entertaining to see them do that.

Paddy, my immediate elder brother, was very bright. As a boy, he could play on the piano such advanced pieces as Bach's Toccata & Fugue in D minor. But what made him stand out were the lovely songs he composed for my hometown Catholic church choir. Two of the songs were recorded in the cassettes the choir produced.

Symo, my youngest sibling (I am second last) was a clever little devil. I will never forget the times he got at loggerheads with Dad for reading a certain novel Dad didn't want him to see. Dad would keep hiding that novel but somehow, Symo would find it.

There is one sibling in my family who is never mentioned: that's the late Stephen Ndonga. Born in 1996, he was the first baby I remember seeing, Symo having been born when I was too young to recall things. Unfortunately, he died in 1996 when he was still an infant.

On the evening of the day baby Stephen Ndonga was buried, Mum was unhappy with the way my senior brothers had conducted themselves that day. I remember her telling them in Kikuyu, "Don't do that again if another death ever happens in our family."

As the years rolled by, I at times got into trouble with my senior brothers for wearing their clothes and shoes without their permission. They also criticized me for some of the things I did, as all older siblings do. And that, my beloved reader, is the story of how I grew up with my siblings.

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RECOMMENDATION: If you've enjoyed the above story on how I grew up with my siblings, you might also enjoy another one on "Choosing Gratitude" which I wrote sometime back. Just click on that link in blue to dive straight into the story.