The other day I was telling my CBC daughter that some of the things they are being taught and doing projects for, are life skills we learnt in the village while growing up. Mainly out of necessity.

Take for example, hand-stitching clothes. During the 8-4-4 of our time, we stitched pyjamas, handkerchiefs, petticoats in home science subject. However, the real practical was done, when you had to wash your one and only tunic, dry it on the open fire in the kitchen so that you could wear it the following day. Then, due to the conspiracy of the devil, that dress catches fire, either because the flames were hell-like or the firewood used are those that sprinters fire missiles or your dress falls from where you had placed it and fell straight on the hot charcoal.

Lo-and-behold, your dress has now a large hole that requires serious patching. Our uniform was light blue and in the whole village you could never find a light blue fabric anywhere unless you went to the fundi.
You know that is not an option. Not now, not in the future.
Why, the fundi, the village uniform tailor, the only uniform designer, buys the exact size of the fabric to fit one uniform at a time.

Desperate time calls for desperate measures, your moms old lesso will do. Or your grandma’s old headscaff. Colors and prints is secondary. The type of thread and color is also secondary- it could be the nylon that you pulled from the maize sack, or the red yarn from an old sweater or a yellow knitting thread, doesn’t matter. You can’t go to school in a dress with a hole at the lower back. Using the moonlight or that tin lantern, you complete your stictching and patching practical. The kind of stitch will depend on the length of the thread that you found. The following day you’ appear in school presentable.

Exam passed!!