YOUNG WRITER: Why I miss the old days

YOUNG WRITER: Why I miss the old days
Rwanda's traditional dishes. Courtesy Photo

Today, I am super glad that misguided reasoning such as "let me sleep, God will provide" have stopped, and no more fables that you can't do what you don't like.

What feeds us today is not necessarily what we liked back in time.

I am so glad that we live in times when women venture into fields and work of their choosing. A big round of applause to the women emancipation drive. Now they work with their hands and brains to earn a living.

This goes to our dearest mothers more especially who suffer and suffocate to get us what to eat.

But shame on us the children who cannot appreciate, we who cannot show love, honor and respect. We who don't make a move to step in front of our parents and ask them how the day was.

It is a great regret that, with deepening mobile technology, ways we used to care for friends and family are now heard only in history. Today we send smiling emojis to friends and family even in moments when we have shades of tears on our faces.

Sweet were the days when parents would bring us together as family and talk about how everything goes. It used to be moments of learning about culture and enhancing the legacy of our ancestors.Today a child doesn't know how to greet the elders.

I consider myself lucky thanks to my grandmother who always wanted me to get it right when it comes to greeting people older than me, and herself.

That was then when I would take a step forward towards her and give her a ‘London bridge’ embrace and she rubs my cheeks later on. Today, it’s is something else. Children greet elders verbally if at all, and little to no affection flows.

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Back in the days, no one would sit next to their teacher, and seeing him/her on the road, one would run. It was a sign of honor. When I think about that today, it sounds imaginary.

I miss those days where we heard of summer break and our first thought would be visiting Grandparents. Now the first step is to the family group chat... Oh time flies!

Gone are the days when people valued wearing imishanana (the Rwandan traditional dress) to look presentable. 
Now many put on skirts as 'an invitation.'

I miss those days when my father would wear Inkanda and inshabure (traditional attires) to show how high he would jump to maintain the maraba dance. Today "Club" is the language. "I am shocked you don't drink" is the synonym and "liquor" is the verb. How time flies!

I miss the days when guhagurukira ukuruta (moving to give the elder a seat as a sign of honor) was a habit.

The other day I went to church, and that's when I realized that judgement day is every day. How I was dressed was more of the topic than how Paul sent a letter to The Ephesians, and how to turn our bodies into the temples of the Lord.

My long sleeved blouse and pant, and generally the outfit deemed appropriate in the Lord's temple was the subject of discussion. I wasn't taught what outfit to wear in church and I don’t see how that’s is connected to belief.

How I wish I hadn't eaten these fast food deliveries that taste like burnt rubber!

How I wish I had a chance to taste food prepared in inkono (traditional clay cooking pot)! I always yearn for food roasted on amashyiga (traditional three-stone stove). It is the sweetest.

~ Article by Fabiola Mbabazi 

The writer is a student at King David Academy. The content of the article is in line with her age and knowledge.