The Reverse Is True: A Reflective Journey

By George Gachara

The Reverse Is True is a semi - autobiographical collection of essays, personal reflection stories and life experiences; the life journey of a boy growing up to become a man.

The author invites you to follow him through his journey in order for you to understand the influences in his life. At a tender age, the author is wounded by the death of his single mother and he begins the quest to find himself, a place to belong and a place in society.

This quest sends him into a journey of discovery about learning, masculinity, patriotism, his notions of success as well as how to deal with the experience of feeling lost within oneself.

The author's sense of fun, determination and zest for life is shown in his quest to find his way, to locate himself and his bearings in a land to which he belongs. Through his reflections, the author hopes to inspire the asking of critical questions about contemporary influences and culture. He hopes to cause a revolutionary awakening of conscience, which should reshape our thinking and transform our hearts and lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Nov 9, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452070056

George Gachara

George Gachara is a youth worker, speaker and a leader of numerous youth initiatives in Africa for the United Nations Development Programme, and the British Council. George is a Global fellow of the International Youth Foundation and is the Co- founder of the Picha Mtaani National Reconciliation Initiative. George is contagiously enthusiastic, relentlessly creative and socially engaging. He loves to work for the youth, the minorities and the underprivileged. George has been described as "young, strong and unbowed" by Amani Sasa Publication, "Kenya's fast rising, notable and respected young leader" by Parents magazine, and a true inspiration" by the Nation Newspaper. He is the last born son of the late Catherine Njambi and has one brother

Book preview

Dedication

This book is dedicated to all those who - through their thoughts, lives and writings - have enriched my life, to Njoki Ngumi and to my late mother.

Contents

Dedication

Introduction

PART ONE

Chapter one:

Son of a different heritage

Chapter two:

A visit to the market

Chapter three:

A strange love affair

PART TWO

Chapter four:

Breaking away from the pack

Chapter five:

The will to fly

Chapter six:

The song of my heart

Works Cited

About the Author

Introduction

I always knew that I would write a book; a professional research report at the peak of my career, perhaps, or as a memoir after my retirement, as many who have seen much are wont to do. As a child, I was determined to see much so that I would have much to write.

It was never the plan to author a collection of thoughts, especially not to do it in my twenties.

Why did I do it, then? First, I constantly feel threatened, afraid of losing myself as a result of the conforming pressure to become, sound and act ‘successful’. You know the rollercoaster of status, wealth and recognition. In our insecurity - because all of humanity is insecure in one way or another - we are constantly creating islands of safety through knowledge, money, status, skills and just stuff. Life for us is a compensation game - compensating for lack of love, lack of worthiness or a lack of self-confidence. Rooted in the ‘others are responsible’ mindset, we attempt to rearrange the outer world, thinking that this will make us secure and lovable. Totally unconscious, we do not realize the futility of the game. We are unaware that the outside world is only a mirror reflecting our conditioning.

Second, I am afraid that I will soon forget the simple events that define how I see the world - feelings, realities and that time will turn them into abstract concepts than mean nothing to me directly or touch me as a person. Things like masculinity - as a state, not as a strength - that can lift up a woman or a child instead of trample them down. I wanted to take a picture of these thoughts as they were.

These were my reasons, pretty much. The thoughts would have swallowed me alive if I had kept them inside, so writing the book was cathartic for me.

There is, however, the matter of my own experience of life (or lack thereof). Do I know enough of the inner reality of my humanity to write with any degree of integrity? How deeply rooted am I in this life of unhurried peace and reflection? Can one my age be unhurried and reflective, for that matter?

But instead of thinking about these things as things that I will learn with age, I thought - what DO I know now that may get away from me with time?

I still struggle - to a certain extent - with my identity and my purpose. How much should I reveal about my personal life without completely denuding my privacy and that of my family? How will I claim ‘personal’ reflections when my life is enriched by the thoughts, lives and the writings of so many?

This book is my attempt at seeing humanly into events that have defined me and to name what I see with contemplative clarity; to account for my hopes, my faith, my laughter and my tears, in order to illustrate critical perspectives that have defined me and will hopefully help in the definition of others. Growing up in a contemporary setting - between competing religious worldviews and without consistent parental authority - gave me some leeway to make fundamental decisions about my life at a very early age. This taught me about responsibility and freedom, but what is more, I learnt that there are different ways of construing reality.

The first part of the book introduces the origin of my inquiry and illustrates the context for my reflections on identity, learning, masculinity, patriotism, and education. The second part raises critical questions about self image, simplicity, free choice, success and faith. The book is not designed to be necessarily read in chronological order.

This is not a story of a hero against a villain with a resounding victory and a happy-ever-after ending. It is also not one of instructions. It is milestones within my journey; an invitation to a conversation with you, the reader. Step back from activity, take a bird’s eye-view and permit yourself to engage in an honest journey to enrich the common understanding of life and your own place in it.

In these stories I am not a victim, and neither do I aspire to be a victor; I tell these stories so as to encourage you in your journey of inquiry and reflection; questioning received wisdom, seeking answers, and breaking bonds that enslave us; the images that determine our lives - masculinity, patriotism, and success. These images have to die for us to resurrect and enjoy our full lives.

The freedom expressed in this book is a process - not an event - of finding out what it means to be free of these images, even as we look forward to the future.

PART ONE

Chapter one:

Son of a different heritage

It was not always easy growing up. Most of the days were long with dreary chores and sameness, and the nights always too short, with the few sweet dreams borne of childhood too fleeting. My vision about my future always conflicted with the present, and these visions became a distant mirage. However, there were pleasant surprises every now and then; near- magical experiences filled with wonder and joy when I least expected. Mine is the story of humanity.

I am the second born son of Catherine Njambi, a beautiful young lady who was the last born in a family of ten. She was a feisty, free spirited young lady who loved music, dancing and fashion…they appealed to her deep artistic sense. She was, however, also known for her stubbornness. At a time when pregnancies out of wedlock resulted in shotgun weddings, she gave birth to my brother and I with a stone face, and when she finally did marry my father, she didn’t care that he was both from a community which was unacceptable to her right-wing father, but also that he was Muslim. These decisions were very antagonistic to her Christian Presbyterian upbringing.

Catherine was full of energy and life; her life was one long, exciting party – going by the collection of photographs now in my possession, she loved the outdoors. Sunshine, sandy beaches, rolling hills and scenic mountaintops dominated the environments captured in her old photos.

One of my mother’s many express desires was to get a daughter. She was particularly interested in having the daughter as her second child. In my early childhood, my mother would constantly refer to me as her daughter, for no apparent reason, and my brother would have a field day making fun of me. I am persuaded that it would make her happy if my brother or I would get a daughter and perhaps name her Catherine.

My mother seemed like a super-hero, invincible, but all the while she was battling illness. She had contracted diabetes during her first pregnancy carrying my elder brother, so by the time she gave birth to me her general health condition was not good; she was on more pills than should be