Cultivating Patriotism

One afternoon in February last year, I was travelling in a bus when I saw an airplane ascend to the skies. I have always longed to fly in a plane again since my last aircraft ride in April 1999, but on that afternoon last year as I sat in the moving bus, I didn't see much difference between travelling in a bus and riding in a plane.

Later on, it dawned on me that there also isn't much difference between living in Kenya, my motherland, and living in America, that fabled land of freedom and opportunity. And how I have longed to travel to America!

When I was in high school at Starehe Boys' Centre, I secretly wished to be among the three students that were to be selected in 2004 to attend a conference in the U.S. state of Massachusetts. It depressed me when I didn't make the cut.

And when I proceeded to Starehe Institute in 2006, I developed a burning desire to pursue my university education in America. That desire had me apply to several top American colleges on three application rounds. I wasn't accepted into any of the colleges, another depressing experience.

Still obsessed with the dream of visiting America, I tried several schemes to make my dream a reality. At one time, I sent a letter to the U.S. State Department, telling it how I have always envied America. Nobody in the department bothered to reply to my letter which I sent via snail mail.

Then in 2013 when I heard that the U.S. Embassy in Nairobi has a library that is open to the public, I went to the library several times, all the while hoping I would get an opportunity to fly to America. My interactions with the library staff never led to such an opportunity.

But something happened in late 2013 that I thought would finally open a door for me to visit America. The Obama administration started a program called Young African Leaders Initiative (YALI) through which selected promising Africans would attend training in the United States.

Eager to land in America, I applied for the program. I put in a lot of effort in crafting compelling essays and recommendation letters. And to make my application stand out, I exaggerated some of my achievements. My hopes came to a disappointing end when I was not accepted to be part of the YALI program.

That was vintage me when I wanted to visit America more than I wanted to know God. Now that I have realized there isn't much difference between living in America and living in Kenya, I wonder why I made my dream of living in America so central to my thinking that I forfeited the opportunities I had here in Kenya.

Honestly, living in America isn't any special. For you see, people in America have to work, sometimes under difficult bosses. They also get sick or involved in accidents. And just like in Kenya, there are thieves, fraudsters, alcoholics, prostitutes and drug addicts in America.

My thoughts that there is nothing special about living in America were confirmed recently when I read in the newspaper of a Texas-born black American who was applying for Kenyan citizenship. From the newspaper report, I could tell the American liked Kenya more than he did America.

Those citizens of Third World nations who win the green card lottery to live in America probably undergo the same experience I had in 2002 when I was admitted to Starehe Boys' Centre, then Kenya's top-ranked high school. I felt so mightily proud to be a Starehian that when we broke for my first half-term holiday, I craved to be seen clad in the Starehe uniform of red and blue.

But my excitement about being a Starehian waned as the months rolled by. I am sure the academic rigor of the school, the overshadowing brilliance of my fellow schoolmates and the criticism I faced for being confused played a part in diminishing my pride of being a Starehe student.

In the same way I felt mightily proud to join Starehe, citizens of Third World nations arrive in America eager to live in that land of freedom and opportunity. I am sure for most of them, their excitement wanes as they discover that America is just like many other nations. There are laws to be obeyed, traffic jams to be endured and toxic people to deal with.

And then there are the forces of nature to be grappled with: the hurricanes in Texas, the wildfires in California, the biting winters of New England states and the floods in Midwestern states.

Having realized America isn't that special, I am striving to cultivate a spirit of patriotism in me. I want to love my country Kenya: its warm climate and beautiful landscapes. And I am forming the habit of praying for our leaders, that God may instill them with wisdom and knowledge to govern us ably so that we may dwell in unity, peace and liberty.

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RECOMMENDATION: If you've enjoyed the above story on cultivating patriotism, you might also enjoy another one on "Kenya: A Blessed Land" which I wrote a couple of years ago. Just click on that link in blue to dive straight into the story.