Forbidden fruit? Why 'kuruka mimba' the 90s was hard
Blogs
By
George Njunge
| Aug 05, 2024
In the 1990s, unlike these days, impregnating a girl and getting away with it was hard. It was a matter that involved the elders in the event the man or boy involved tried to “jump” the pregnancy.
In Ndeiya, a sleepy and dusty village in Kiambu County where I grew up, elders ensured the person responsible for the pregnancy did not walk scot-free.
I remember vividly the day I booked Theera (Serah) daughter of Jemithi (James) in my small cubicle. Theera was a naïve girl who had just finished high school and had jumped my traps saying her dad would kill her if he learnt that she had visited me. My village love sneaked into my cubicle through a garden path on this day.
I did not waste time knowing that Theera could be called by her parents at any time. I dribbled her heart with the best of sweet nothings. Theera was breathless and we made the hottest love of the season throwing all caution to the wind. A few months later, Theera found me washing clothes outside my cubicle.
Theera looked unhappy, tired and lost for words. “Hello sweetie!” Have you come to help me wash clothes and why do you look sad? I enquired. “Let’s get in your house I have something to tell you,” Theera said. I hurriedly got in the house thinking that another sweet moment was loading.
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Inside the house, Theera held my hand and dropped the bombshell. “George just be prepared, I am pregnant!”
I felt whirlwind-like effect cruise through my body. I was tongue tied and my eyes got transfixed, it was a hot moment. How could it be me? What joke is this? I pondered, I denied the pregnancy and read the riot act to Theera.
She left the house dejected and sobbing. I thought things were over between me and her.
Theera must have told her parents about the developments. Jemithi informed the local elders about how I had “broken” his daughter’s “leg” as that is the local language to mean a girl had been impregnated. The elders job was to bring Theera to me and my parents and demand that I marry her or we pay for the “broken leg”.
On an early morning, three elders accompanied by heavily pregnant Theera knocked my parent's smoky kitchen where my mother Berithi (Peris) was preparing tea. Theera was cowering behind the elders making frantic efforts to hide her bulging tummy.
After battling clouds of smoke, the lead elder broke the news. ”Eeeee, we have been sent here to notify you that your son George has broken the leg of mzee Jemithi’s goat, your son has denied and here is the evidence,” the lead elder said. Berithi was shocked by the news. She called me in the kitchen and ordered me to sit down.
Upon sitting down, Berithi asked me if I recognized any of the guests, I said I knew all three elders apart from the girl. Theera started sobbing. Eventually, my parents paid for the broken leg. Theera gave birth to a bouncing baby girl and furthered her studies later. That was the village life of the 1990s.
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