She shepherds her flock to the riverside
Right through the insides;
Of the forest
She wonders if anything lurks in the darkness
Darkness in the brisk of day
But her prayer remains
That one day the heavens clouds will swell
There'll be enough rain,
Her flock will have to drink directly from tanks
And her dreams would come alive!
See, I partly grew up in the village and I wanted to be like Emily. Emily was this girl staying with us and she was charming with a good sense of humuor. She would wake up quite early even before my mum did and swept the compound clean. My little brother and I then used to climb up the guava tree right at the middle of the compound and shake off the guava leaves and flowers just to sullied the compound and agitate her.
Emily was never angry, atleast that's what we thought then. She would run after us and we loved that part. Once she got hold of you, she'd tickle you so hard till you'd stop laughing and cry instead. Emily was charming, so full of life. She'd then religiously go back to sweeping like her life depended on it. Later in the evening, she would report us to our mum and we'd get beatings for our misbehaviour.
We never learnt. We repeated the same things over and over again to get a good play session with Emily.
Emily went to highschool years later. My father would tuck five hundred shillings in her palms and that was enough for the week. I envied her. I envied the money. By then the only money I got to keep was "pesa ya patco." The few coins. Mostly a five shilling coin. I wanted that. I wanted to have money so that I could buy my brother a lollipop. Buy more patcos and hide them inside ugali, chew on it and enjoy the goodness while everyone else struggled with the taste of plain ugali.
She then started seeing boys. I mean!! It's Emily. A witty soul. She'd escort us to Sunday school that started earlier than the main service. At 8am I would grumble right behind her complaining why she gave me the bag that had her Bible. She would probably assume me or promise to buy me lollipop after Sunday school. (Remember Emily had money😭I assumed she always did).
Sunday school would be over by 10:30 but we always lagged behind so that she could talk to some boy. I wanted to talk to a big boy when I grew up. Like Emily. At this time I had normalized the idea that boys were to be feared. In the school that I was, boys sat alone, played alone, never borrowed from girls and so on. So I idolized talking to one when I went to highschool. My eyes brimmed with hope that someday I'd make a boy laugh at my jokes. (Look at me now! I write poetry for them lol). We would spend hours there, me staring at some big boy, Emily laughing and talking, my little brother on her back sleeping.
The only time she'd be fully conscious that we had been standing for so long was when my brother woke up. At that moment it would dawn on her that she was in trouble. Mum would be at home waiting for us to get back so that she can go for the main service. We'd get home to a grumpy mum and Emily would make her laugh somehow. My mum on the other hand would stay at home saying "nimechelewa juu yenu."
The trend continued. It never stopped.
I went with Emily to the river. To wash clothes, carry water (even if people laughed when I struggled carrying a 5 litre bottle)take the flock downstream and so on. I followed her everywhere. No, I policed her. I wanted to know how she did all these things because then, I never knew of anyone as hardworking as her. I wanted to know if she had a source of magic, if she could introduce me to a small boy like me. (Hii story ya wanaume ni kama ilianza kitambo 💀) I wanted to know if she took extra soap and shared it out to the neighbours because she was so generous. I can't list everything about her that we loved but we didn't like her tea. She would make thrice the normal amount with a slogan of 'chai haifai kuisha. Mgeni akikuja lazima apate chai.'
Just as we had gotten used to her presence, she dissappeared. I want to say 'never to be seen again' just for the drama and make it sound like Avatar narration but she came back. Years later. With a mystic. The place she dissappeared to is unknown. Only that this time she wasn't here to sweep our compound clean, but to visit. Oh how we loved her!
She was a shepherd,
the boys she had,the flock,
and i wanted to be the tank they'd drink from
or the heavens that would favour them all.
<Bett writes 2201hrs, Nairobi Kenya>
Hello lovely readers!
This weather reminded me of what i love the most; writing
and so i did
Here is an entry i hope you enjoyed it
like, share,comment, feedback is highly appreciated
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