Growing up, I often watched people taking out trash in movies. Most of the entertainment shows we watched featured the Western world thus almost everything was different from my world. When they (people in movies) took out their trash, it was always wrapped nicely in big black trash bags. It was simple—just carrying out a big black bag of trash, placing it on the curb and waiting for a huge truck to come by and take it away. Simple, fancy, efficient. My 7 year-old brain was fascinated by this simple system. I often wondered why we, in my world, could not do that as well. My efforts to draw out answers from my parents were not so fruitful; rather, they got me assigned to take out the trash.
See, in my world, taking out trash is neither simple nor efficient. It is a task I abhor. First, you have to carry the whole litter bin, big as it is, to the compost pit. The litter bin stinks to high heavens, but that is just a tip of the iceberg. When you get to the compost pit, you will wrinkle your nose in discomfort while struggling to empty the bin into that sea of litter that stinks beyond high heavens. After this, you are to wash the litter bin and the polythene bag that is used to line it. I weep for my not-so-pretty nails and tiny hands for enduring years of this ‘abuse’. As if that is not enough, the second portion of taking out the trash entails collecting all plastic waste and burning them at a designated area, typically a few centimeters away from the abominable compost pit. For this exercise, you have to use all the science in your head, ergo the study of wind patterns and flammability of your trash. You have to endure the chocking smoke burning your eyes and scaring your throat because they (we shall not say who) will not allow you to add some kerosene to your little fire. “Kerosene is expensive,” she says, “It costs 20 Kenyan shillings!” Sigh.
Huff! Puff! You suffer to make sure all collected waste catches fire. You also have to make sure all the waste is burnt. Her orders. So you stand there, inhaling all the smoke, burning your eyes and throat. It is no wonder that I cannot sing. To think of all the concerts that I would be holding right now. Sigh.
You also have to make sure the wind does not blow away your featherweight polythene bags, because then, you will have to clean the whole compound again. She will make sure of it because; ‘unataka majirani waseme kwangu ni kuchafu!’ We cannot have that.
It has often been said that when the smoke from a fire blows in your direction, you are a witch or wizard. Lol! Let me not divulge further information.
After enduring the torture that is taking out the trash, you sit down to watch TV and see people carrying out black bags of trash. It should be obvious by now that one of my childhood dreams was to have the movie experience of taking out trash. I had big dreams too, like becoming a pilot. Well, I am here writing to you about trash so you can tell how the pilot dream turned out. Even though the closest I came to achieving my dream of becoming a pilot was running around my father’s compound with a guava leaf impaled on a blade of couch grass and letting the wind turn the leaf like a propeller while screaming my lungs out, I am close to achieving another of my childhood dreams. I get to take out my trash like people in the movies.
See, I just moved into a new apartment which unlike my former living conditions provides the trash bag experience. At my former residence, we endured the litter bin without the burning of plastic waste now, I live in a place where I get to take out my trash like people in the movies. The building manager just handed me four trash bags to last the whole month and I received them with unconstrained excitement and glee. He doesn’t understand why. But you know and I know, we are about to witness a dream come true.