Every conversation in this post happens in Kikuyu, but I don’t want to use half the words on this post translating. So I wrote it in English instead. Or Kiswahili. However, there are some things that sound best in Kikuyu. So I wrote them as they were said. And because I am nice and considerate, I translated too. You’re welcome.
“Please get the cat some meat”
I was taken aback. I would have never expected these words from my mother. She was addressing her husband (also my beloved father)
“Get the cat meat?” I asked. I could not believe she was actually asking for meat for the cat’s consumption. She firmly believes cats should eat rats and mice. That’s the only reason she keeps cats. Rodent control. Sure she’ll feed it but once in a while she’ll throw words around like “Hii paka inakula kama mtu badala ya ishike panya“. Even when there is a scarcity of said panyas. You can’t catch a panya every day. Panyas don’t hang around waiting to be turned into a snack.
“Yes. It’s not eating anything else”
Our cat has been unwell. We suspect it was given quite a beating by one of the many strays that keep frequenting our home. We think so because we heard the war cries and screams of cats fighting at night. Okay, we’ve heard them a couple of times but there have never been obvious scars of war like this time. I think we can all tell who lost. Or hopefully, it’s a case of “you should see the other guy”. All she’s doing is sleeping. She’s also become very paranoid and skittish. Any small sound and she’s already alert and ready to bolt. Which is strange because she is a very playful kitten. Or cat. Apparently they start being referred to as adult cats after about 12 months. I don’t think she was quite there yet. We got her on 29th March 2025. I know because I am those people that record everything. So I have a video of three kittens in a cage that normally would house a chicken.
Two from the same litter (same colour too) and a ginger who was slightly bigger, that we got from our neighbour. We ended up giving up the other two up. The only thing worse than one cat who has a grown man’s appetite, is three of them. They both died though. One was mauled to death by dogs, the other ate a poisoned panya. The one that stayed with us, we (read I ) named her P.A. My brother came over some time ago and asked if the cat has a name.
“Yes” I answered
“No” My mother answered, at the same time.
“Ai. Since when? It doesn’t have a name” My mum
“Yes it does. Ni nyinyi hamjui“
“Inaitwa?”
“P.A”
“P.A ni personal assistant wa nani? “
I chuckled.
“P.A as in public address”.That cat is really, really loud. When it meows it sounds like it’s using a public address system. So the name stuck, for me. Everyone else stuck to pspspsps but it still works.
The meowing becomes significantly louder if you are eating. The same thing will be on her plate, but she will be by your feet, rubbing herself against your legs, begging you to look upon her with eyes of mercy and a bit of food. Her stomach could be so full, it’s almost bursting at the seams (if she had them) but she will still be begging. If you continue to ignore her, she will stretch and place a paw on your thigh. Except if you are my mother. That’s where she draws the line. I won’t say much else but if you touch the broom in our home, the cats will scatter. Universally. Any cat we’ve ever had has kifagio fearing software installed at a very early age.
Kanonz was like that, too. Who is Kanonz? The cat we had before P.A. Beautiful grey cat, gorgeous bushy tail. I’m sure if she had grown to maturity, you could confuse that tail for a feather duster. What happened to Kanonz? Well, she got into a, uhmm, accident. She had gone missing for a couple of days. When you own a cat what this usually means is pregnancy (if it’s female) or fathering (if it’s male but you will never know that. Cats are deadbeats and it’s not like it will plaster itself on its forehead). Or it could mean bad things happened to it. Pregnancy doesn’t count as a bad thing. Death. Life threatening injury, kidnapping (catnapping?), abandonment? Maybe they found someone who does not expect them to catch panyas every day. Screw you and your non – existent panyas, God-knows-what if it disappears forever.
I still remember that Sunday when I found out. I had just come from 10:00am mass, which means it was sometime after midday when I got home. Cliff gave me a ride home actually. Cliff is a friend of the family. If Tembea Kenya was a person? Cliff. He’s always on the move. In fact, if you want to tour anywhere in this country, talk to me nicely, I’ll hook you up with Cliff. Preferably areas where the terrain is rough. Cliff knew Kanonz. I have a photo of Kanonz on Cliff’s car. I was wearing a hot pink halter neck, maxi dress whose back is bare(with a sweater, of course) that my sister got me exactly 10 years ago. It has sentimental value because I wore it for my brother’s ceremony (Let’s call it that. Those who know, know. No, it’s not a wedding but if you think about it, it kind of is). In the sea of hot pink, it has a white strip mid – thigh length and another black one just below the knee. It has this beautiful embroidery detail at the neck area. Yellow, black and white. Listen, I love this dress but information is not important. What is important is that clothes that I got a decade ago still fit. Do they feel a little snug in some areas? Yes. But do they still fit without looking like I’ve borrowed someone’s clothes? Also yes. And that’s all that matters. (Bet you thought I was going to say something profound, huh?)
Anyway, me and my hot pink 10 year old dress that still fits found my dad seated outside. Immediately he saw me he said “Woi, you poor cat…” I didn’t wait for him to finish. “Noooooo!!” I fell to my knees and stared at the sky. (Okay, I didn’t. But I am dramatic so let’s say I did for the sake of this story) I just knew. Kanonz. My poor Kanonz is no more. He explained what happened (I don’t want to tell you. Just know it was accidental. There’s a parable about someone poisoning a neighbour’s kid but then their child ended up eating the poisoned bread? Something like that. There was no poison though, it was something else.). Cliff and Brayo (my other brother) willingly went to the ‘crime scene’ but I couldn’t bring myself to. So, I stayed behind feeling sad. I didn’t want the last image I have of her to be her lifeless body. I still have her as my screensaver on my laptop. Changing it feels like I am betraying her memory. It’s a cute photo of her, basking on a rock, with her striped belly the colour of ash and cute little pink nose.
“Are you feeling sad because of a cat?” I don’t know if this was my mother’s attempt to console me (because if it was, it sucked).
Then she said something that made me laugh in my sadness. I don’t have a quiet, girly laugh. I laugh really loudly. But Wangechi said I have a beautiful laugh so shauri yenu. She said “Ndùkaigue kieha nìùndù wa nyau. Ìì okorwo nì ng’ombe atì nì ùgùkamaga?” (Don’t be sad because of a cat. It could have been worse. It could have been a cow that was giving you milk)
So you see why I was surprised that she was asking for meat for P.A? In her effort to encourage him to hasten his step, she mentioned the cat was not eating anything else and she didn’t want it to die. (Aaawww!She loves P.A , this woman) This was on Saturday, 7th February 2026.When my father went to get meat, he had other errands too. So it was a while before he came back. P.A started getting hungry. She had milk that she was not drinking. This is a cat that would trade my soul for a drop of milk. That’s how much she loves milk. And yet, here it was, untouched and her uninterested. Enyewe this cat is sick. So she did what cats do best and started meowing. Sitting outside the door, following everyone around. My mum noticed and said “Nyau. Nyama ìgìrirwo Meru” (Insert my loud laugh here).
In Kikuyu, the S.I Unit of a distant place is Meru.I know there are further places but I don’t know who (and why) they decided on Meru. For example, if my mother sends me to get something and I take longer than expected, she can ask “Kwani aliendea Meru?”
The meat finally came from Meru (he he) and we put meat in P.A’s bowl and what did she do? Gobble up the meat? Nope. Did a few sniffs here and there and go back to sleep. Now I was really worried. In Kikuyu we have a proverb/ saying that goes Ìtekùrìa nì ndwaru. Literally, it translates to it that does not eat is sick. That cat is really sick, guys.
But not as sick as it was looking on Sunday. You see the meat it was sniffing on Saturday? It was completely disregarded. You’d put a piece of meat literally under its nose and it would not even flinch. Just continue sleeping. Before I went to church, I came back to the house and remember how it had become so alert? I must have startled it. It must have been too weak because I watched it try to jump over a wall and fail. That really broke my heart. World’s most agile creatures cannot jump over a low wall. About 4 feet high.
By the time I saw her last, on Sunday evening. She looked like she was drooling. This is never a good sign in a sick cat. More often than not, it means the animal is nearing the end of its 9 life rope. I don’t know if she’s gonna make to Saturday. I’m afraid she won’t. So I guess that’s my Valentine’s plan. I’ll be home, mourning the second cat in a span of one year. What will you be doing? I hope you have plans. Joyful ones. With lots of wine. I could use some wine.
This post was supposed to be about Valentine’s; about love. It’s still about love though, right? The love of a furry, snobbish, four legged creature that quite literally bites the hand that feeds it. When English wahengas were coming up with that saying, about not biting the hand that feeds you, they definitely didn’t have cats in mind. Safe to say they were not cat people. Cats were mostly associated with witches in that era. I’d have probably been burned at the stake back then. Damn. Jesus, dying for the love of humanity, me, dying for the love of cats. Literally, loving to death. What would you do for love? What won’t you do for love? (There’s a song for this line, 2Pack ~Do For Love. Please sing along. I randomly burst into song in real life, triggered by a sentence. Or even a word. There’s a song for almost every word. Aundie is sick of my shit, but ni mimi niko)
The universe and I have a deal. Every time I lose a cat it must be replaced with something. Juu sasa, hii mapenzi yote inataka nipeleke wapi?. Universe, you’re up.
You’ve heard of Christmas Miracles but have you heard of Valentine’s miracles? This post had ended in the paragraph above, but news reaching my desk is that P.A has in fact made it to Saturday. She’s alive!!! With a visibly injured back foot (she’s limping now) and still, no appetite 😞. Wish me luck. I’m going to spend the day trying to convince my parents to call a vet. I know I said parents but mostly my mother. Do you want to bet that she will say “But it is not a cow that you are milking” (Again 😅). Exact words will probably be “Wanjiku nyau nì ìtùìkire ng’ombe ya iria atì ùretìra ndagìtarì?“. My father is very compassionate but of course he will not choose my side when it’s me against his wife.
I’m gonna need intercession too. Did you know there’s a patron saint for animals? Yeah. St. Martin De Porres, also patron saint of inn keepers and barbers and many other things. Today’s fun fact, brought to you by Winnie, who also edited this post. Thank you Winnie ❤️. Her and this post were meant to be, because of the title. It’s an inside joke, don’t try to understand it. I also find it very interesting how the Church has a patron saint for everything. You can also have multiple patron saints for the same thing, too. Like St Francis of Assisi is also patron saint of animals. Not surprising because it is said he was so peaceful, animals would mill around him. Maybe this should is what my next post should be about. We’ll see.
