upepo
Elder Lister
The other day I was reminiscing about interesting past tribulations that I could not resolve through reason and honesty. Nothing unusual in this - such thought trajectories become common place when you realize you should not be around if the universe were serious enough. The issue has to do with this particular habit known as Raundi mwenda. For the uninitiated and those who came to the city as adults, there is such a thing as Raundi mwenda. Superficially, it is defined as an excursion to a fluid destination for vague objectives. Simply put, it is a journey to nowhere in particular to do nothing in specific. For the fans of this distraction - if I may call it so - it counts for more than a physical endeavor. It is ritual to spiritual ends, a moment of dynamic meditation. Perhaps something that helps city residents come to terms with their unnatural existence.
Now here is the story. I had pleaded my affection to someone’s daughter, and she naively agreed to call by house home. Of course, after a few months of pretense, we all fall back to our defaults. My case was not any different, and I had nothing to worry about since my defaults were harmless in every way. At the top of these defaults was my religious-like adherence to the Raundi mwenda tradition. But there was a problem. All along, I had assumed Raundi mwenda was a universally accepted practice. I was wrong. First, I had trouble convincing this big girl that an adult male of sound mind can journey to nowhere to do nothing. No matter how much I tried, she could not internalize the idea. Every outing I took would be followed by hours of grueling interrogation. Of course, out of the suspicion that I was diverting my affection and injections elsewhere. I had to give up the honest way of practicing this important ritual. I devised ways to hide my Raundi mwenda excursions among acceptable errands, which is not the optimal way of doing things given that Raundi mwenda should be an enjoyable, guiltless, relaxing, and rejuvenating exercise.
And no, you don’t outgrow the habit; the only thing that changes is the scope and scale. When on foot, you stop at distance estates; on a bicycle you stop at city boundaries; on a motorbike you stop in distant counties, while a car takes you to national borders.
Now here is the story. I had pleaded my affection to someone’s daughter, and she naively agreed to call by house home. Of course, after a few months of pretense, we all fall back to our defaults. My case was not any different, and I had nothing to worry about since my defaults were harmless in every way. At the top of these defaults was my religious-like adherence to the Raundi mwenda tradition. But there was a problem. All along, I had assumed Raundi mwenda was a universally accepted practice. I was wrong. First, I had trouble convincing this big girl that an adult male of sound mind can journey to nowhere to do nothing. No matter how much I tried, she could not internalize the idea. Every outing I took would be followed by hours of grueling interrogation. Of course, out of the suspicion that I was diverting my affection and injections elsewhere. I had to give up the honest way of practicing this important ritual. I devised ways to hide my Raundi mwenda excursions among acceptable errands, which is not the optimal way of doing things given that Raundi mwenda should be an enjoyable, guiltless, relaxing, and rejuvenating exercise.
And no, you don’t outgrow the habit; the only thing that changes is the scope and scale. When on foot, you stop at distance estates; on a bicycle you stop at city boundaries; on a motorbike you stop in distant counties, while a car takes you to national borders.
