I owned my first pair of shoes when I was five. They were a pair of the latest Bata slippers. The fact that they were a size too big was not a bother for me, if anything, my grandma approved of the size arguing that I'd grow up with them. These slippers were a big deal for me because owning them pushed me a class higher in the hierarchy of social classification. I was no longer among the ordinary kids who trekked in their bare feet and had feet with soles that were hardened by life till they cracked at the heels. I was now ranked among the elite. I was a member of the more respectable group that could afford to walk through the halls of life with a little more dignity. Of course I was no match to the "teacher's kids" who wore leather shoes and socks to school and had feet that were softer than a baby's bum, but I was on my way there.

You see, these slippers arrived one holiday, I honestly don't remember which, when my uncle Justus came from Nairobi. Thinking about it now, I am not even sure that it was even on an holiday. Back then, anytime a relative came home from town, it would be a holiday. We'd cook chapati and slaughter a hen. All of us, the children, would shower thoroughly, taking care to scrub well behind the ears and neck before parading ourselves before the relative for sweets and candy. Oh those days...Relatives from the city were like Santa Claus to us. On this particular 'holiday' my grandma, who owned the naughty list, declared that I had been an exceptionally good girl all year long and therefore was asked to state one thing that I'd like as a present.

It didn't take long for me to think. I already knew what I wanted. It was at the tip of my tongue.

"Bata slippers" I mumbled shyly and waited in bated breath to be reprimanded for my irresponsible choice. It was in fact an extravagance we (kids) were not allowed to indulge in. What were slippers compared to books and pens. Who cared about protecting their feet from thorns when I could have asked for money to go buy the sugar that was hardly available in the house. I was five, but I knew the rules.

To my utter surprise, my uncle agreed to my request and that evening, he came home swinging a plastic bag. I almost fainted in joy imagining what he carried in it . I waited in agonizing patience till late that evening. We had just cleared the table after our evening meal when he said "Betty, take. "

He handed me the bag.

"Thank you" I whispered shyly without looking at the gift and ran outside. All the others followed me and even before I had opened the bag, my elder sister grabbed it and pulled out the brand new slippers. I could see the envy and admiration in all of them. Grandma came out of the house and called out "Betty, bring the slippers here".

I took them from my sister and gave them to her. She carefully inspected them.

"Take good care of them" she instructed seriously "and don't let the others play around with them. These are for church"

I nodded gravely, knowing in my heart that those pair of blue slippers had just placed a crown on my little head. I was boss.