A Luo guy’s narration of an adventurous trip to Murang’a County for a traditional Kikuyu wedding otherwise known as ‘Ruracio’ is all the fuss on social media.
The story, penned by journalist and publicist Kevin Otiende on Facebook, is aptly titled ‘The Price of One Kikuyu Girl.’
Otiende narrates how the weekend expedition to a place called Koimbi in Murang’a turned into a muddy affair as a result of the ongoing rains.
Anyone who has been/driven to Murang’a will confirm that the Murram roads are a nightmare when it rains.
According to Otiende, they had been warned to leave their 40 cars by the tarmac road but that warning must have fallen on deaf ears.
“You see, we are Luos. There were at least 40 cars in the entourage. None was a Probox. A Probox that tried to overtake the convoy veered off the road in unclear circumstances.
‘’You don’t want it to rain while you are in Murang’a,’’ someone warned us. Another had suggested we leave our vehicles by the tarmac, but they did not consult the first car in the entourage. So as soon as he turned left and into the slim Murram roads, everybody else followed suit in typical Kenyan fashion.
In a few seconds, we all disappeared into the jungle. Reversing under the circumstances was not going to be possible in a thousand years,” narrated Otiende.
The post has since attracted over 1000 reactions and hundreds of shares, and it is probably the best thing you’ll read this week.
Read and check out the pictures below.
THE PRICE OF ONE KIKUYU GIRL
Exactly one month ago, my phone buzzed – it was the notification of Ortis Dundo’s becoming the first man since Albert Einstein who succeeded to add me into a WhatsApp group. The group was an expedition to Koimbi, Murang’a County this past weekend. There are many trees there that made me miss Dedan Kimathi. Earlier, we had made a ritual stop at the Kenol Petrol Station to strategize on how we shall make our way. Half the men are part of the 1% of the population that can afford FOREMEN Shoes, a brand owned by Augustine Dundos of the powerful South Coast Family. It was here that I knew the ruracio was going to be lit – everyone was yellow. Add that to the fact that we were going to meet Muranga girls and it’s a Yellow Yellow affair.
You see, we are Luos. There were at least 40 cars in the entourage. None was a Probox. A Probox that tried to overtake the convoy veered off the road in unclear circumstances.
‘’You don’t want it to rain while you are in Murang’a,’’ someone warned us. Another had suggested we leave our vehicles by the tarmac, but they did not consult the first car in the entourage. So as soon as he turned left and into the slim Murram roads, everybody else followed suit in typical Kenyan fashion. In a few seconds, we all disappeared into the jungle. Reversing under the circumstances, was not going to be possible in a thousand years.
The rains started as soon as we entered the homestead. They didn’t even wait for the poor groom to choose his bride. In fact, he selected while being rained on and failed, ostensibly because the covered girls were also rained on and looked the same. The bride had a special perfume shipped in from France for ease of identification but it was washed away. All this happened as an old woman from the area tried to dance to Ohangla music. It was painful to watch.
Soon after the old men retreated into the home to negotiate. They couldn’t agree until around 9:00pm. It had been raining all this time, and Murang’a Murram was patiently waiting for us, and our expensive FOREMEN shoes.
There were about 25 vehicles ahead of me, and 15 behind me. I sat there watching as they helplessly skidded all over the place, some banging their sides. Like an unattended boy in Bukusu circumcision ceremony, I waited for my turn to feel the heat. The turn came, and the heat was felt. Out of nowhere like the Wild Wild West, an old man in gumboots showed up going car to car to advise them on how to navigate. And he literally succeeded.
One expensive Mercedes Benz failed to start. It didn’t help that it was owned by a Slay Queen, and the cars behind had about 40 men who in unison proclaimed they cannot leave one Slay Queen behind. So this group arrived in Nairobi 24 hours later, in solidarity.
In the wake of all this, we left that road well tilled for the planting season.
This is the price of one Kikuyu girl. This marriage must work because if otherwise, sending the young girl back there would be considered a crime against humanity.
I expect the resignation of the Koimbi MCA by close of business today.
