The resemblance to the Boston Tea Party lied not in the objective, form or activity but the name. With the native Kipsigis language altering the English phrase ‘Tea Party’ to sound ‘tii batii’, it was not lost to anybody who had a smattering knowledge of the English language that ‘tii batii’ was actually a corruption of Tea Party. Nobody explained how such village parties came to be christened tea parties but then nobody asked. In retrospect, Tea Party was the only thing American in our village at that time.
August of every year, maize was harvested. After the owner had secured his harvest in his store, it was left to young boys and girls to forage the weeds and stalks of maize for any left-overs. Moving from farm to farm, we scavenged for whatever was left. The most hardworking of us collected so much maize the proceeds from selling the two or three sacks could buy some new clothes, a few toys and of course bread , which was a rare delicacy in those days. A few shillings will be saved with our mom to pay for membership to the November Tea Party.
The second last week to school closing was a week to look forward to. After a flurry of meetings, the Tea Party Committee was formed to collect money, set the rules for the party and plan for food and drinks.
Come Friday, a market day at the local shops of Ndanai (with old rusty buildings I thought God created the world with them), with money tucked in my pocket and watched by my left hand right inside the pocket, I joined other excited boys in the market. Having earlier withdrawn my savings with mom with some additional interest, we would buy caps, torches, new clothes, cigarettes, sweets and others. The tacit dress code of the party was funky, and we would go to great lengths to outdo each other. The fad then was to have a bunch of keys hanging from your belt. I therefore booked my grandma’s store keys in advance for the occasion.
At four, we would help our committee to haul the bales of baking flour, rice, crates of soda, decorations, loaves of bread, margarines and other stuff to the party venue. The venue of the party was always the home of a newlywed couple who had no much commitments and would have the time and the expertise to cook the kind of meals that we ate in such occasions: buns, rice, chapattis, chicken( some boys who didn’t have money contributed chickens) and gallons of tea.
The party house was decorated with flowers painted on the walls with terracotta, graffiti written all over and old newspapers and magazines forming the ceiling. Wild and exotic flowers hang from the ceiling to create a party atmosphere. A gramophone was placed in a corner with hundreds of records tied in a table cloth. Its speakers were placed inside big drums, to enhance the bass.
Dashing home to change into the newly bought attire, we would join the party at 7 pm or before, looking dapper as dapper could get in the village. We always failed to observe time in school but could not dare in the Tea Party; the rules on time were stricter than an army barracks. The party started with tea and buns before rules and individual duties were read. The music flowed with the tea though the former was not free. Like a juke box, you paid to have a particular track played; dancing to it attracted a certain fee too.
To overturn someone else request, you paid double his bid. The party was such organized with penalties for making noise or even nodding to the beat of a song paid by someone else. The records were categorized into hits and non hits. The hits were very expensive to order as somebody else will always try to outbid you for it. One could even pay ten times the first bid and be rewarded with having everybody out of the house for him to dance and enjoy alone. Tracks by Miriam Makeba, Yvonne Chaka Chaka, Michael Jackson, Black Box, Sam Fan Thomas, Tabu Ley,Tumbalal arap Sang and other local ones that my memory failed to register were very expensive.
Smoking cigarettes occasionally and puffing out smoke, we reveled like cow boys of the Wild West.
9 pm was dinner time. Boys assigned the duty of waiting attended to their duty with rehearsed excellence. Music would turn to gospel. Chicken stew, ugali and chapatti was served. It was such a massive feast, without any food that was regularly served at home.
After 9 pm, it was more fun and music. Someone could bid a shilling for a boy to dance without music unless he paid double. Some danced, some paid. In case one misbehaved, the biggest boy served as a sergeant-at-arms and would be shoved out in a flash. There was no sleeping and dozing attracted a fine. Tea was served continuously to keep sleep at bay. Some smoked weed, some smoked cigarettes. Away from the watching eyes of parents, it was time to get spoiled.
Saturday after a breakfast of tea, bread and buns was a time to go to the dam and bathe to return at 2 pm. This was a day to be smart for we invited our girlfriends to join us in the party. Every boy had earlier invited his girl. Some boys invited the same girl without knowing. Competition was intense; it was won with money and chutzpah. Some hearts were broken, others were sated.
Our waiters doled out such sumptuous meals to girls we could not even afford to eat ourselves. Chivalry is innate! After food, it was time to dance. Woe unto you if your girl did not turn up. Music then was free. You just requested for a track and you hit the dance floor with your girl. The rest cheered you. It was a time to shine and get lost in imagination of childhood fancy: a blissful marriage with your lover after school! The dances were not in any particular style but a mixture of clownish acts and gyrations. If you were unlucky to miss a partner, you just faced the wall and danced with your shadow. Such was the misery of not being seductive enough.
Night fall was lovers’ break time. Hand in hand we waltzed to the bushes in the hills or the bushes by the river. Each couple to their own lair. Just like the hares. With moonlight, the romance was perfect but in case the moon was amiss in the sky, your torch lit your way. Whatever you did with your girl was a function of your creativity and courage. Some just sat talking, both gazing the stars, others went as far as a fling, a gal gazing at the stars alone. You cannot bet on village brats not to frolic. ( There were no kisses in those days; we didn’t know there was anything of the sort. Of course without TVs nobody could contract such foreign practices. ) The frilled clothes after it attested to the thrill in the bushes. Of course some lied to look macho like the rest, though all they did was talk about the weather.
The 9 pm dinner time found you and your girl seated in the party house. Lateness attracted a heavy fine. We ate with such relish, what after a sexcapade with a girl! In those days, you hit on a girl in January and would give you a date for November or December. So the Tea Party was a perfect rendezvous after a year of waiting.
10 pm was time for the party proper to begin. Some cheeky boys had bought some alcohol and it was time to imbibe it. With girls to impress, the dances were more intense and showy. Each boy trying to impress his girl and each girl trying to impress all the boys. Wagers got more expensive, penalties became weirder. A boy would bid ten shillings that you eat a whole exercise book. Without twenty shillings to overturn it, you will be served tea to swallow the exercise book with.
To look mature, we chain smoked and gulped alcohol. The party would continue till morning.
Sunday. Tired and sleepy, we would go to bathe at the dam after breakfast and await the closing ceremony. Girls having left in the morning, it was the turn of our parents to be treated to lunch. With the proceeds from fines and wagers, we would buy presents for our parents and the host. Speeches of discipline and hardwork were the order of the day. After it, we broke camp and headed home.
The following weeks were yet other parties for circumcision ceremonies, it was such big parties it made our Tea Party mere child play, of which it was anyway but, we ran the show in the Tea Party and that was the difference and so we would look forward to the next Tea Party. I wonder how Sarah Palin’s Tea Party compares with ours!
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