My Life Story and My Thoughts About Privilege

This morning, Ciiku tweeted about thin privilege (fat discrimination), and it got me smiling. See we have been talking about privilege A LOT on the Kenyan social media scene. The other day I was in a discussion that was about the value of “work hard platitudes” that most of us dispense when talking to young “under-privileged” people. I got the sense that since the system is broken, telling people to work hard is a waste of time. Instead we should be working to fight the systems so everyone gets equal opportunity. This I consider to be a Utopian view of life especially because those telling me to fight the system aren’t giving me tangible ways to fight the system, we just rant about it. Anyway, here goes..

My life story cannot fit in a blog post or even 10, but I will attempt to tell a very abridged version of it, in a bid to highlight why I think every human being on earth is privileged, and every human being is limited, and what you make of your life depends on what you do with the cards life deals you. My story comes in many versions, and it is probably your story too.

Secondly, success isn’t about becoming Barack Obama, or Chris Kirubi or Richard Branson. My definition of success is achievement of one’s life goals and making a positive impact in society. Basically, leaving this place better than you found it. Everyone who is born into this world gets opportunities. What determines if you have lived well is how well you used those opportunities to better yourself and those around you, despite the limitations, because everyone who is born into this world also has limitations!

About 3 decades back I was born in a small village called Kianjogu in Meru Central district to a housewife and a primary school teacher. We didn’t have much. I didn’t have a baby cot, and we had a 2 bedroom mud house which also had a living room. We were privileged because we had an iron sheet roof (not grass thatch), and in between working in the farm, my mom would dig a foundation to our dream house, which was to be a 4 bedroom bungalow (this house took about 23 years to complete). My parents didn’t have much in finances, but they had the dream to give us the best education they could afford.

I went to Muringombaine Primary School for the first 4 years of my schooling, where my mom who was now a trained teacher taught. It was your typical village school, Kimeru our local language was an examinable language, and everyone wore their hair short. Most children came to school barefoot, save for teacher’s kids who could afford rubber shoes, popularly called “Ngoma”.

4 years later, my mom and I boarded an Akamba (a rather popular but slow bus then), and came to my uncle’s place in Nairobi to shop for high school.  Raising the money required for form 1 was a family affair, even my grandfather contributed. We were required to buy equipment for our sport of choice, and as much as I’d have wanted to buy a fancy tennis racquet, a hockey stick was the cheapest equipment, and though I didn’t know what hockey was about, I went with that.  I couldn’t afford the fancy foods other kids brought to school. School fees was always paid in installments, but in the final year when I performed really well, mom rewarded me by buying me a pack of Weetabix and powdered milk.  I was by no means privileged compared to most kids I schooled with.

Fast forward to today, I am a CEO of a chain of hotels with a team of 50, and we provide employment to another 50 people. I have a farm that’s employing 3 people. I go home to a rented flat that has parquet floors, drive to work, I have more pairs of shoes than I need, and my daughter not only has a baby cot, she has several sets of bedding.  I guess you could say she has a privileged childhood.

Why did I tell that story? Because the talk of privilege (and lack of), bothers me, especially when I see my peers give it as reason for not succeeding.  By the popular definition of privilege, I am not at all privileged!

1. I was born a girl, in the Meru community, which is a patriarchal as they come. My mom was in an abusive marriage (which I was exposed to plenty).  My first job which was at my current work place was strongly male. I was the first and only female, and the youngest employee for years. In today’s terms, no one would blame me if I didn’t succeed because; patriarchy.
2. We didn’t grow up watching TV, going to the mall, or even playing in the neighborhood as most kids do. My parents had little land, and the understanding what that the 2 acres fed us, and generated money to subsidize their teacher salaries for our education. So we worked! Hard! And we started little enterprises to subsidize our income.  We like to joke that our home was a complete economy. We even lent each other money and repaid with interest.  At some point I’d lent mom so much money, she started calling me K-Rep Bank (Kellie-Rep) 😀
3. When I first went to boarding school, I had a heavy Kimeru accent, to the amusement of my more urbane classmates. But I knew I was brighter than all of them, so an accent wasn’t going to hold me back.
4. Coming to Nairobi as a “shags kid”, the culture shock and adjustment saw many of my compatriots drop off performance wise (myself included), but we knew that education is all we had, so we worked hard to get university admission.
5. Despite getting straight As in sciences, I didn’t get a slot in medical school which was my dream, because in my year the self sponsored intake took more slots than the regular intake. The system was heavily favouring the rich. The dean had a self sponsored slot for me, but one semester’s fees was the equivalent of my family’s net worth.
6. In university, I didn’t have the luxury of partying or even making friends on campus.  Between doing 2 courses (CPA and my degree) and running a sausage-making business, I had little time to enjoy what most people define as the best years of their schooling. For me, university was my one chance at avoiding poverty. I also knew that going back to Meru after school was not an option.
7. I am not tall. I don’t have long flowing hair. I am not light skinned. (insert other ridiculous measures of privilege here).

So why am I not ranting about privilege?  I believe there are many kids in rural Kenya that didn’t have as many opportunities as I had. There are others that worked even harder and didn’t succeed. I also believe that we should be giving as many opportunities as possible for everyone to make a success of themselves.

But I am also alive to the fact that life is not egalitarian. We are not, and will never be equal. If you believe in reward for hard work, then you are also alive to the fact that over time, there will be people who benefit from the system without working hard, and others who suffer despite working hard. The rich may seem privileged because they have all the opportunities money can buy, but from my interaction with many rich kids, they are deficient in character. They don’t have the muscle that comes from having to work your way up.

Life is about taking the cards you are dealt, and kicking ass at living. When I look back at my life, I wouldn’t change a thing. Because where I wasn’t privileged in gender, finances, systems, looks etc, I gained in character and self awareness.  My life priorities are shaped by the challenges I faced. Because I have come this far, I am able to help even if it is one other person the inspiration they need to make something of themselves.

So today, even as you become aware of the systemic weaknesses that have put you at a disadvantage, ask yourself whether you have fully exploited the opportunities that have come your way. Have you kicked ass at living?