The Kykuyu Homestead:
It is worthwhile to take a moment to examine the traditional mode of living in which Maathai would have been raised. Not only does this give us insight to many cultures around the globe that use similar “homestead” paradigms but also insight into the formative years of Maathai’s childhood, from which we might assume she derived many of her human-nature dualistic philosophies. Let’s examine, in condensed form, Maathai’s own descriptions of her childhood home: the homestead and Nja, the Nyumba, and the Thingira.
The Homestead and Nja
All of us… lived in a single compound, a typical Kikuyu homestead. [It] covered a large open space and included several houses and a big courtyard with a fence and gate surrounding it. (Maathai, Unbowed. 16)
In Kikuyu, the term for the female gender is “Mundu-wa-nja”meaning ‘Person of the Nja’. The Nja is the “big courtyard” to which Maathai refers. The Nja’s open space is surrounded by numerous huts and small buildings; collectively this courtyard and the various buildings are called the homestead. The Nja was bare earth and always swept clean. It was bad luck if one should trip within the Nja, since It meant that there were things lying around loosely and providing hiding places for dangerous interlopers like snakes and other small pests. Cattle were not allowed into the Nja, but goats were permitted; they were corralled in a corner of the Nja with sweet potato vines to eat and a trough filled with saline earth to lick. Various crops like cow peas, millet, and sorghum could also be spread out to dry in the Nja. During the day and when weather permitted, cooking, eating, and socializing happened in the Nja, otherwise the family would use the first wife’s Nyumba.
The Kikuyu were polygamous, meaning that any family may have multiple wives/mothers with a singular patriarch. Each woman in a homestead had her own dwelling for her and her children called the Nyumba. Similarly the patriarch had his own dwelling, which was smaller, since it would not accommodate sleeping quarters for any of the family but himself. The patriarch’s hut was called the Thingira. Every homestead would have a granary and other various agricultural buildings, which would be tended to by the women. The toilet and bath are usually in a separate structure but a bit removed from the Nja. All this compound was held together by the central nexus of the Nja. Just as all the buildings in a Kikuyu homestead orbit the Nja, so the woman, particularly the first wife and her subordinantes, act as a central force holding the Kikuyu family together. In Kikuyu tradition, there are three important trees, all of which will typically be found in or near a homestead.
The Mukuyu Tree:
The “tree of origin” or the “Mukuyu,” (Ficus sycomorus), a fig tree with an evergreen canopy that provides sanctuary from the sweltering sun. Since these trees grow to a great age and height, an old one is often highly venerated and called a “kikuyu.” Maathai herself speaks of the Mukuyu tree near her childhood homestead in Unbowed. This tree also plays an important role in Kikuyu creation mythos. It was to a grove of Mukuyu trees that Gikuyu was directed from Mt. Kenya by Ngai to establish the first Kikuyu homestead. It is also from the name of this tree that the Kikuyu people get their name. All major Kikuyu religious sacrifices are done under this tree
The Mugumo Tree:
A parasitic fig variety, the “Mugumo” (Ficus thonningii) that often grows on another tree, entangling itself around its host’s trunk and branches. The mugumo tree is the second most sacred tree to the Kikuyu.
The Mukurwe Tree:
The third tree – the Mukurwe (albizia gummifera or “peacock flower”) – is not a sacred tree but is prized for its many uses. Its trunk was used for building, its branches for firewood, and its leaves for animal feed.
This tree, along with the fig tree features prominently in Kikuyu origin mythology. The Kikuyu “Eden” is called “Mukurwe wa Nyagathanga,” which loosly translates to “the sacrificial Mukurwe tree on the gates of paradise”. The Creation story begins on Mt. Kenya where God, Ngai, created the first Kikuyu man, Gikuyu, who was instructed to go to a specific place to the south of the mountain where there was a grove of fig trees, “Mikuyu.” Here Giyuku found a woman, Mumbi, who became his wife. The roots of the fig tree entered Mother Earth nourishing the tree and connecting with God. The Creation Goddess came together with the the milky essence of the Mukuyu tree resulting in Gikuyu and Mumbi giving birth to 10 daughters who became the mothers of the 10 Kikuyu clans.
The Wives’ Nyumbas
Each of my father’s wives had her own house … similarly constructed but with several compartments. This was the realm of the woman, her children, and female visitors and relatives. Each house was between twenty and thirty feet across and divided into several separate areas by walls or sticks. My mother had her own place to sleep, while my sisters and I slept together in our own compartment, as my brothers did in theirs. Our beds were wood planks topped by mattress covers that we stuffed with leaves, ferns, and grass. The houses had no electricity or running water and were dark inside. There were small windows, but with no glass in them. In the middle … was the fire where my mother prepared meals. This cooking area was the family’s space, around which members talked, told stories, and shared their experiences of the day. (Maathai, Unbowed. 16-18)
There would be as many Nyumba’s in a Kikuyu homestead as there were wives, since no two married women shared a Nyumba. The widowed mother of the patriarch might also be housed in the homestead with her own Nyumba. All the Nyumba opened into the Nja. The unmarried girls and uncircumcised (pre-pubescent) boys of the household slept in their respective mother’s nyumba, though there was no prohibition from them sleeping in a different mother’s Nyumba, since all mother’s shared caretaking of all children. In any Kikuyu traditional homestead, the first wife’s Nyumba is the cradle of the family traditions; it would loom over the homestead both physically and psychologically.
The Patriarch’s Thingira
My father had his own hut… which was one large, round room constructed of mud and wood and covered by a sloped, grass-thatched roof. Here he ate, slept, and received guests…. I would sometimes take food … to my father in his hut, but as a girl I would not be expected to stay. This was the realm of men…. (Maathai, Unbowed. 16)
The man’s habitation is a Thingira, which means “hut.” Unlike the larger Nyumba, the man’s thingira is indeed a “hut” by comparison. Both the homestead’s patriarch and any circumcised, unmarried young sons had their own thingiras. While the wives’ Nyumba’s would orbit and face the Nja, the patriarch’s thingira was set apart, near the entrance of the Nja and facing away from it and toward the entrance of the homestead. The circumcised, unmarried sons’ thingiras would be far removed from their father’s circle of several Nyumba and close to the homestead gate; after marriage young men were expected to move out of the homestead.
Unlike in the Nyumba, there are no partitions inside the thingira. As you enter, you would find to your right a raised platform for sleeping. Nearest the door would be a barrel where the man’s food was placed for his convenience in case he was not in at dinner time. Directly opposite the door was a goat and within the thingira was a fattening pen for goats. The left was left open for goats and sometimes a visitor’s bed. In the center would be a fireplace. Several posts within the space would be used to hang clothing and bags. Weapons – a bow and arrow, spear, and shield – would be kept near the man at the foot of his bed.
The sons’ thingiras different significantly in layout: a young man’s thingira would have sleeping beds on all three sides opposite the door and would have no fattening pen. The multiplicity of beds would be for other young men from neighboring homesteads, who would often share the thingira until they married and each established his own homestead. There was usually no fire inside the young men’s thingira, but rather an outside one.
During the heat of the day, the man would sit on a stool under the shadow of his hut’s entrance. His walking stick would be beside him; if he went inside he would leave his walking stick next to the stool, but if he left the homestead he would carry the stick with him. Therefore, it was easy to determine whether the man was in or away merely by the presence or absence of the walking stick and stool.
The thingira was rarely used during the day. Rather, it was where the man sat in the evenings in contemplation alone or with a visitor. The thingira was a quiet room of contemplation; contrastingly, the woman’s Nyumba was like a noisy home.