SOMETIMES I FEEL like some of us lived our lives to please our parents, guardian, or mentors. In my case, it was my grandmother, who was my guardian. I was content to have her dictate what I ate, drank, dress, including who I should aspire to be in life. She kept me on my toes, making sure I did not make the same mistakes she did as I grew up. She modelled my life around hers and wanted me to accomplish what she never could, including marrying the type of man she admired but never married. She wanted my man to bear semblance with her secret admirer, an Indian shopkeeper called Bacchu. Love, she used to say, knew no bounds despite differences in culture, religion and language. "The book of life has many chapters," Grandma would tell me. “You must keep turning the chapters before you die, Wairimu. Some of the chapter will be very happy and rewarding, others will sadden you, while in yet other chapters you may not know what to do. It is like a class assignment or a sport: You can ace it, but chances also are you will fail and be a loser.”She, too, had her good and bad chapters, and a particularly memorable one...
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