No one can understand how hard it is to pick just one hero to the spotlight until it’s time to choose. Our lives are surrounded by heroes. And as we live our everyday lives, we never comprehend just how many courageous and wonderful people we’re surrounded by, until they’re not with us anymore. Such a man was my grandfather. And it is he who taught me to see everyday heroes.
Joseph Dickson Wathika was a master of friendship. And though it might not seem in any way heroic, friendship saves lives. It is that deep human connection that alters paths and allows us to tap into the kind of people we ought to be. And my grandfather, through kindness and honesty, was forever pushing people, organizations, and communities to exist in their best forms.
The starting point of my journey with him is marked with memories of ice-cream on rainy days and the idea that enjoying life is something which should be done liberally. He spoiled his grandchildren rotten with trips to the Animal Orphanage and Snake Park and Nairobi National Museum and wherever else it occurred to him to take us in his car which smelled continually of Robb Menthol Balm. He introduced us to mutura bought from his favorite butchery and, for my sensitive palate, he would tease that he was going to put the ‘firi firi’ he enjoyed so heartily into my scrumptious snack. He knew exactly how to disarm and love without ever outrightly saying he was loving you.
As I got older, nothing stopped the big man from picking me up during the constricting hugs he would give me every time we met. With his gravelly voice, he would inquire the way most Kenyan adults do about school and the usual mundane details adults always seem to be so interested in. Then, we would branch off into other topics. Though he was decades older, wiser, and more knowledgeable, Guka would bring himself down to the level of his then 13-year-old grandchild to talk about life. He was an inclusive man.
With the increased awareness of adulthood, it became clear that the friendship Guka had so liberally offered to me was a way of life for him. His work with his church and as a civil engineer caused him to have shaken many hands and learned many names over the course of his life. But, his warm, candid nature is what kept all these people coming to him, calling him and asking for his guidance, years past retirement. Everyone who knew him knew he was the kind of man you could depend on, day or night.
My grandfather established churches and people. He looked at the architecture for buildings and with the same analytical mind, he guided many to the sound, stable state of mind and way of life they could build on for decades to come. He served his country with deep patriotism. He shared a romantic love like no other with my grandmother. But everywhere he went until his dying day, my grandfather designed and built friendships, strengthening bonds and people. That’s why he’s my hero.
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This story was written by Gracia, one of Paukwa’s writers.
Gracia is a creative jack-of-all-trades, but writing and storytelling remain her favorite mediums of expressions. She loves how words fit together to create stories.