Old school gifts for my twin sons’ second birthday

Five weeks ago, my twin sons, Baraka and Gabriel, celebrated their second birthday. They are identical, but are different in every manner of the word.

They gave me a hard time when they arrived, because I couldn’t tell them apart, at least for the first few minutes.

I grew up in the village. During my day, birthdays came and went without fanfare, but there were times when we “celebrated”. These celebrations were not over the top, and the gifts were the kind that many kids today would sneer at. I would love to take my twins back to those days when life was simple, yet still sweet.

Here are some old school gifts that I would love to give my twin sons …

HENS TO MAKE THEM GO KUKU

I’m certain Baraka and Gabriel would either scream their small heads off or think I’ve gifted them a pet if I handed them two clucking cockerels. I’ll have them know that way back, if a cock crowed while at the doorstep facing the house, it was announcing an impending visit, but if it faced the gate, this meant that someone would embark on a long journey.

You got me. The Kikuyu chick in me wants to get these boys started on the long journey of entrepreneurship. I have a dream: their two fowls will make them the biggest suppliers of Kentucky Fried Chicken.

Back to the guests’ narrative. Guests were highly valued because they brought goodies that we children enjoyed, while adults swapped stories. No visitor could beat one of my aunts, Perris, whom we affectionately called tata wa Muriithi. 

Speaking of aunts, the ones my kids know about are the ones with a high turnover: house helps. Like all busy moms, that’s a “gift” I’ve given my twins since they were a day old.

MAD FUNTIME

Once, tata wa Muriithi visited with a basket on her back full of good stuff. Among others, she brought goodies that every village kid was salivating for. Madfun.

If you went to the shop with five cents, which then had ‘weight’, our local shopkeeper, popularly known as Nduthu, dipped his skilful hand into the sweets’ jar and came out with a fistful of madfun. Nduthu was skilled. Each time, for five cents, he fetched the same number of madfun.

Sure, my twins love candy, but the kind they love can cost mama all her CD4. I’ve “delayed” this madfun gift until the day I’ll find what’s become a rarity: a five cent coin. I want to have mad fun at my twins’ expense. I swear they’ll stare at the five cent like it’s a prehistoric relic I’ve excavated at Olduvai Gorge. 

CHAPATI CHRONICLES

Back to good aunt Perris. She also brought two packets of Atta wheat flour for “migate ya gukandwo”. These chapatis announced, from their aroma, where they were being cooked from as far as four ridges away. Chapatis were informal currency. In school, a morsel of chapati could buy one favours, friends and servants.

“I have something special,” I announced on the twins’ birthday, showing all my four boys the chapatis I had made with brown wheat flour. Let’s just say that my surprise backfired like a rusty old homemade Mau Mau firearm.

The mother of all juices

I didn’t understand why Tree Top juice was only for those who were admitted in hospital. Many times, we faked sickness so we would be admitted in hospital and get to drink Tree Top, but nobody noticed us coughing our lungs out, so we gave up on con games. Treetop was the mother of all juices. It came inside a missile-shaped keepsake bottle. You could almost, through the transparent bottle, see the fruit pulp in the mix.

To date I have not tasted a sweeter juice.

Anyone know where I can buy some Tree Top? This is the last surprise that I’m saving for, not just for the twins, but for my two elder boys, Joshua and Israel.

I’ve been telling them about it, and I’ve got them salivating – but what if they stare at it like it’s a bottle of used brake fluid? Great. Just great. For me. My palate has been dying to be quenched by this ambrosia.