SAM'S SENSE: Where are the adults?

In my sense, I reflect on a concept that goes by the name adulthood. It is a concept that can be understood biologically, legally, psychologically, socially, and in Kenya, I must add, politically.

As a nation made up of communities rooted in culture, tradition, and belief systems, we know what references to adulthood sound like.

Sometimes we get those harsh reminders like “act your age,” “pick someone your size,” and polite versions like “grow up”—all of them reminders of adulthood.

Within the family setup, it is the adults who make the big decisions about the present and future of that unit. The children, on the other hand, go through the motions; from total dependence to being guided up the various steps of life’s ladder.

Away from the individual, many traditional communities in this part of the world were—and perhaps still are—organised in age sets: a structure where people initiated together, shared identity and expectations. There is a collective behavioural pattern required of age sets.

If you went through the rite of passage in year one or year seven, your conduct was still expected to align. You were of the same age set.

But maybe I’m talking about old times. Today, our modern age sets are our institutions, defined by the Constitution of Kenya.

Take Parliament, for example, whose slogan is “For the welfare of society and just government of the people.” In this age set—sorry, in this institution—it doesn’t matter if you come from the most populous constituency like Ruiru or the smallest like Lamu East. They are all equals. Figuratively, they are an age set of sorts, and are expected to exhibit the same behaviour. They are the adults in the room—or House.

Further up in modern institutions, the pyramid narrows to the tip… and as it narrows, numbers drop but responsibilities rise. At the top of the pyramid is not privilege—it is restraint and responsibility.

In traditional society, the peak of the pyramid was reserved for the chief. The age set leader. His behaviour was not group-driven. It was anchored in wisdom, steadiness, and service.

I’m not a philosopher, but societies—whether old or modern—are organised in those enduring pyramids.

What else is enduring, as the pyramid is? The top-down, bottom-up social contract between the two ends of the pyramid.
At a basic level, the social contract expects more from the adults. And depending on the level of the individual in the ladder of the pyramid, some responsibilities are heavier than others.

Then there’s a little science in this pyramid: a heavy, restless, turbulent apex that is prone to constant rocking can tip the pyramid. The structure only works if the top stays steady and the base stays strong.

Back to the story of the individual: children behave as the custodial adult directs or allows. The adult does not command the status of fatherhood or motherhood. They are a father or a mother because of how they conduct themselves. Fathers play the role of a father, and mothers, the mother.

And if, out of frustration, the mother barks at the children, she still must remember she has a duty to bring the children back in line. If she doesn’t, she must be ready for a turbulent adolescence and reckless adulthood, which then becomes her legacy.