The Drowning Fish

When I shake my head, it sounds as if it is occupied by an old circumcised toothless orphaned bow-legged demon.

A bad beginning, most a times, if not always, makes a bad ending. I have just sat here comfortably and squarely on my old squeaky stool which is made of ant-eaten woods and rusted iron nails to tell a succulent saga but now I don't know if this is the right time to tell this highly anticipated saga. I was sitting on a squeaky stool and as I was slowly balancing myself on the stool trying to position myself well, one of my most precious body parts happened to be squeezed by the stool so hard that I almost forgot what I was about to narrate. But let me remain bold as a man. It is a crime, for the bold men to sneeze with their eyes closed. A man should be ever alert for anything might happen and force him to take charge at any moment.

"Mrs. Brigitte Macron is a transgender woman," was the big alarming news that ruled the end of the year 2021 in France, my favourite country, and Europe as a whole. 2020 was all about Coronavirus but 2021 was about Brigitte Macron the courageous first lady of France and the only woman in the world who has ever shown the world what true love means. She is the only one who fell in love with her student and not only falling in love but extending to marrying him. But that's not a strange saga. Today we can have similar stories as people will be trying to copy her to get the same type of fame. But Mrs. Macron shall be remembered for nurturing her own student to become one of the most powerful men on earth. Who else can claim to have natured his or her student to that level? One thing that is special about this lady is that she admitted to sacrifice everything in her life to nature this man to the best and her dream came true. But after all, she holds him as her husband, with all the qualities. When a woman loves, she loves for real. When Sandra loves, she loves you with all that is hers. When Sandra loves you, she will be ready to do anything for you at any cost, anytime.

There was a famous theory released after thorough research was successfully done by a famous media company in France claiming that Brigitte Macron, is a transgender woman. But is this true? Sorry I deviated from the main story, anyway.

Beside that eloquent theory, there was another parallel and more compelling story that was running in our famous Makongeni village. Our village, the most interesting village in this area, is known for a mighty gifted insane young beautiful lady who claimed to have dated one of the most intelligent and prominent politicians in the country and they had a handsome son, who is said to be a senior business man in this country today. Here is the story...

This is, with much concern and conscience, with the most serious accuracy, with neither negligence nor ignorance of any degree however small or big, so much a heart touching, soul shaking, finger freezing, feet freezing and head aching narrative of its own nature. This is a story that will never be compared to any other, ever, not even in the generations to come after this wonderful strange generation, a generation where a man with his own wits will be happy fighting his own wife to entertain a commercial regular sex worker, a generation where a man and a father will either borrow or steal money from his committed wife to entertain a sex worker. Though, passably and practically short and comprehensively narrated, it will at least leave your nosey eyes almost dry. Nowadays they comically call me a leftist all over just because I usually eat using my left hand. I wonder why they should only refer to eating and not even writing, or if not that something else reasonable in this life. My fortunate black long left hand is not only for eating. Honestly, without any reason to cheat, I do very many good, bad, great, mighty, minor, useless and useful things using the same hand, even cleaning myself using the tissue paper in the convenience after a long call. Again, this mighty or rather useless human life so much extends further beyond eating. But worry not. I am, as an individual and without any fear or favour, so much proud to be a referred to as a common leftist, the only leftist in this area. Barack Obama, the most superior ever United States president who is a husband to one, for sure, and a father of two beautiful daughters, is left-handed as I am. Uhuru Kenyatta, the Kenyan president who was elected three times together with his deputy president and still drove him away like an old toothless wild dog after three successful elections, is left-handed as I am. King David, the father of Jesus Christ who was anointed while looking after his father's sheep because his brothers took him lightly, was also left-handed, perhaps, and the last but not necessarily the least, the mighty prophet of Allah, Prophet Mohammad (peace be with him)was left-handed. That is the only logic and reasonable reason as to why he probably wrote the holy Quran from the back. I have developed a habit that when I am talking about the Muslims I must decree peace to them because they suffer much from terrorism where some think that they support terrorism yet they are not. It's only that the terrorists hide in their coat. But perhaps they have a hand-show me your friends and I will tell you who you are.

Ms. Kristina Katiwa, Mama Vaati, was a young desperately ambitious widow who had only one son who was single. He was without any sympathetic attention from the ladies, single and a virgin as well for he had not yet won himself a beautiful girlfriend, or even an ugly one. He did not afford the half a loaf that would be good for him. He had none at all, like me today, sincerely not fun making. His poverty, which could guarantee him a Nobel peace prize, did not allow him to. The Bible says that the husband of the poor widows is God who was introduced to Africa by the whites some years back. Before the imperialists invaded Africa, the Africans, being eloquent and beautiful, believed that God, the creator of the sun and the land, was so superior that He did not, for any reason whichever it may be, need to marry. He was simply complete by Himself. And if He needed a child he could simply mould it from the mud, the way the whites claim he did. Africans believe that God was living with man in heaven before he created the earth. After the earth was ready God dropped man, his wife and their wealth from the sky and they landed on Mulata rock next to Kilili secondary school. It is after that when he bore sons and they migrated to different parts of the country. Some of the sons were Mulata, Kaseve, Ndumbi, Kathatu and Wee. But this was supposed to be ignored for the benefit of the white man's religion. Mulata was believed as the place where the devil had his roots. That huge rock was the devil's seat, according to the new white man's religion. So for the good of the human race, all the widows were supposed, with immediate effect, according to the African routine, to get themselves husbands and life would continue smoothly as before. Nobody was complete by himself. Everyone needed a helper, however smart he was. When the white man came, they said that the only reason as to why their God killed their husbands was to take their wives and marrying again was going against the law of God. If God had seen a beautiful lady, He had by all means to take her, that was the European view, which was implanted to Africans by force, after which it became the norm in African communities and nobody would question it. He who believes without seeing is blessed. Who was ready to let that blessings go? The African view was totally different. When Mulungu, the almighty, the Supreme Giver, separated you from your lovely husband, it meant that you were too special to allow him waste your time-it is true that we have some people who carry family curses with them wherever they go. It would be unfair if Mulungu allowed his good people suffer because of this when they would have done better if they had good partners. Mulungu, the supreme God, separated you so that you can get your best, the one who possessed your lost rib. The same happened to the good men, who were also supposed to remarry after the death of their wives. So, if one died in a marriage, he was not the best for his lover and Mulungu had to look for a way to separate the duo. The Bible puts it clearly that the evil shall die not the just. He knew very well that love is blind. He was even forced to close his eyes and give his only Son Christ the king of kings to us because of love. So, he was aware that when we love our partners, we would make ourselves blind to have them close no matter how cruel they treated us. In the name of in love you must sacrifice yourself. He had to look for a way. According to the whites, God is the husband to the poor widows, well, that is true and acceptable, God is always there for us, but what about the poor widowers? God is not gender biased. He would have solved the case on both sides if it was true that he promised to be the husband of the widows.

She, his mother, was somewhat short and brightly brown and should have been brilliantly beautiful were it not for the extremely hard life that mercilessly mauled her. Her sweet lovely flowery face had some minor tints of bounty beauty but looked much older than her actual age. This was simply because of the hard life she obligatorily went through. But still with that she as a woman, had something special with her which attracted very doyen men around not forgetting the holy right reverend pastor Ruto, the only righteous man of Mulungu in the area, the only Mulungu's representative in that area. She was, for sure, as beautiful as the new moon, perhaps or as beautiful as money-nowadays money can buy love.

She, as an incumbency, had to go out every day to look for food for her together with her lovely handsome son-he was handsome though... The young aspiring boy spent the whole day alone at home as his manqué mother left to get him some food to depend on. He had no friends to keep him company, not even cats or hounds. They had none at all. The only available friend he had was a very big mouse which waited for its friend on a rock inside their old house. This house which his father built them before he was killed. They could spend hours there playing happily together, as friends. The mouse was moving its long nose as if it was smiling to him and he joyfully smiled back after that. With that, they seemed to have one thing in common. After the other mouse coming, he would be left alone as his friend got busy with the other mouse-that other mouse was of more importance than him, perhaps; the head of a dog is better than the tail of a lion. But he had no option. He had to bear all that; the sun will always shine even when it meets the daylight. It has a duty to just do that, it doesn't look when it rises. Day after day, the routine was the same. His mother could go out every morning expecting to get a job which would earn her a few coins which they would use to purchase some food that would sustain them that very evening . The evening would appear long if she missed the job which was not guaranteed. Her son had not yet secured a job which would help push their lives which had turned so much unbearable when they had nothing to do to change it. They were going through a life that was too much painful to any man who was living in that particular generation . A generation that bad no mercy to any man. In case she missed the job, which was more often than securing one, they would spend the night with hungry stomachs; if they could not avoid the game they had to play it the way it was. They had no choice. For the flowers to shine, the roots must allow them and the louder the fart of a sleeping man, the more he had for his supper; hungry men do not fart in the night. It was not the will of the anus to be so dirty but it just found itself holding such a duty.

It was one fine day, a day like any other, when the tired birds of the air were noisily chirping their melodies in a tired mood trying to bid the long sunny day good bye. The day had been extremely very hot but the good thing with it was that it was then part of history, all its torture was then forgotten. The sun which had that day appeared to be more active than any other day looked worn out, like a man after his first ejaculation. But why did it exhaust so much energy that day? For a relationship to stand both parties should have equal dire and sacrifice for it, failure to which polygamy can be allowed to make the relationship to continue. The sun pumped all its energy and its partner could not give back the same. They separated. The young man was helplessly sitting on the dusty verandah curiously waiting for his dear loving and industrious mother to come home, as a routine. Her time to come back home was already past but she had not yet shown up and there was no sign. What might have happened to her? That was her first day ever to delay. Why did she take so long? Could she have met something better or worse? Perhaps she had earned a lot that day and she spent more time on the way trying to drag it home-a pregnant woman will always walk slower than a virgin for she is carrying a precious thing. She has then to walk slowly so that it don't escape-in some offices the entrance is used as the exit as well. Or maybe she had met some danger and had been seriously harmed. She could be lying somewhere helpless, dying in pain, alone. Who knew?

The young man was there soliloquizing helplessly seated on an object outside their house, "My dear mum," he said this slowly, desperately, " last time you told me that the pastor's wife told you that she sold sea shells and shoe soles on the sea shore when she saw her husband and their love started. I wanted to tell you that there is a very big lazy lizard in the bathroom who instead of going to get a partner who would help in increasing the number of lizards in this area to feed on the cockroaches that visit us every now and then is watching us as we are bathing but now you are again late. When will you be back? You have been out since dawn; it is now almost dusk and you are not yet back. Again, I did not get any news about you since you left in the morning. Don't you that you cannot tailor-make and mark immediately dusk has taken rule and is already on?"

He was just there, mental protuberance in palms, elbows on knees, totally worried, with tears in his eyes," My dear mother, when will..."

She, with no alarm nor notice emerged from the gate, not necessarily a gate but a simple sketchy structure that significantly served as their God-given gate, totally forlorn and with bare hands walking slowly like a politician in an internment ceremony of a poor lady who he had interest in but she shunned down his request. She walked like a losing lost loser. And where was she all that time? She had nothing in her hands and she was not suffering any harm. She was the same as she left in the morning. Why did she take so long?

Today, as we shamelessly gossip her, MS Katiwa is known all over to be a widow but very much hard-working, as hardworking as a bee-widows are known to be cheap to all idling men in this area but she came with a new version. She stood strong by herself. She could work for herself and did not need any help whichever it was. She had maintained her family since her husband died. She once had a handsome husband but he was killed a long time ago. The man was really industrious. He knew how to take care of all what was called his. If he was around she would not be suffering like this. All what she was going through was only because her handsome husband was mercilessly murdered. But who murdered him and why? This world has no mercy. The good focused people who should live are dying daily and those lazy monsters who should be dead are safely enjoying life, totally secure. The Bible says that Mulungu shall protect all those who do according to His will but it is like only those who identity themselves with Him are suffering as those who are against Him are enjoying.

"Good evening mum?" He greeted her gazing at her lovely eyes smiling forcefully masquerading to be very much happy, as happy as a king. He had no mood to smile but he had to feign to make her happy-she needed a warm welcome back home. East or west home is the best and he was the only one responsible of welcoming her. He had to make her feel at home though it was not good at all. Poverty had cost them a lot. All their neighbors hated them because of their poverty. But they had to live. They had no choice. When you are in a boat in the midst of the ocean and then the boat sink, you have to swim in the water. If your bed is wheezy you have to develop a sleeping style which will not make your neighbors say that you are ever busy all night. You can't just sit and say die.

She then responded warmly, "Good evening my dear son," totally tired but at least lively. She, as a mother, had to be positive ever when she was before her son. Her son had to learn to take everything in life positive and his mother was responsible to teach him all these, he had no father, unfortunately. His mother had to double the responsibilities both as a mother and a father. She too had the duty of brother, sister uncle, aunt and grandparents. What a man can do a woman can do better. Meanwhile, she walked closer to him to greet him. He was her only relative on earth and she was ever proud of him, as proud as a peacock. She loved him more than her late husband.

Neither dog nor cat was there to welcome her home. Her only son had all the duty. He joyfully, standing and smiling to her, offered her his seat which was nothing else but an old ant-destroyed wood to rest on, "You can have a seat here, mom. You really look worn out. But worry not it shall be well."

His mother approbated the offer warmly and of course seemed to be so much relieved by that rare offer. She appreciated very much for the offer, "Thank you my dearest son", she sat down and breathed out all the tiredness she carried in her strong body. The day had been long for her but she was at last home. Home is the best place to be. Every animal on earth has a place to call a home.

"May the almighty Mulungu, the Supreme Giver, bless you extensively; may you be a source of joy to many. It is my joy to learn that you are aware that the mother termite cannot at all starve to death as her children are around -the advantage of having children."

She was very happy by that treatment. As she sat some cold sweat flowed down her chubby cheeks and looked as if it was trying to carefully sketch her fair face. Her beauty was the talk of every man in the village. Very many admired her but feared to be associated with a poor widow. She, however, looked very much tired. As she sat on the seat one could see how her body was tired. But she had the determination.

The sun had already rested in the western horizon leaving them in the deadly darkness, a darkness which could scare rats. They had no lamp to give them light in the evening. Their poverty could not allow them get one. Not even the simple lamp that uses a blanket string as the wick and a pesticide can as the fuel carrier. They had to set everything before the sun left. Once darkness found them unprepared they had to fumble in the darkness or wait till the following day. The darkness was so thick that one could feel it by his hands. One day, Vaati was chased by a cockroach in the darkness. Cockroaches tend to rejoice in the darkness and due to the darkness at their home there was a very big cockroach which could creep all the way from the forest which was around two hundred metres from their home every evening. One day Vaati found it trying to open a sufuria but instead of fearing him, it chased him. It was too big to fear a boy like him. But they had to suit themselves. The life they were going through was not their choice. They had no other option. When in Rome do as the Romans do. But the best thing with it was that they were just living like the other people, sleeping in the evening on a bed and waking in the morning; eating like the other people and going to the convenience and releasing such stinking products into the loo just like the other people. They had nothing special.

The young man was pleased by the reaction and responded positively, "Welcome, and didn't you achieve anything all that time? You look totally forlorn. Wasn't this day, as a routine, fruitful for you?"

He asked chuckling broadly. He was very happy of such a comment. He shed his tears in joy. He knew that he expected something good from her because she was positive towards him. He was very sure that that reaction would result to something good. When the flowers are shining the roots are at their best. Whenever you come across a pregnant woman the first idea that comes to your mind is the man responsible.

She responded with wet eyes but in apparent ecstasy, "Worry not my dear son, my beloved son, my only begotten son; before you break a coconut it looks very rough and inedible, but after you break it you start salivating. I have got something special for you; so, take enough courage and listen, please..."

Vaati interrupted her after yawning widely, curiously, "But mummy, I first need to strengthen my intestines to clearly capture what you are trying to pass across; they are too flabby for me to listen. They are playing games there inside and I cannot concentrate. Haven't you got anything today? After all that waiting."

He was really bitter for waiting for a whole day and then getting nothing at all. It would be better to spend a helpless day expecting nothing and get something small than being expectant and getting nothing. It is better when she fails to promise you a visit but visits you unexpectedly than keeping you anxious only to leave you suspended forever.

His mother responded smiling sweetly, "Yeah, I have got some..."

"And where is it? I cannot see..." Lucky interrupted her harshly flinging his hands repeatedly in anger and hunger. He was very bitter, like his late father. His father was a man of the people who was in good terms with everyone but he was quick to anger. He could get angry anytime.

Ms Katiwa frowned her face too in fury, "I have something very precious for us. Just keep calm and be patient enough. I will in a spur of moment let the cat out of the bag for you. Slow but sincere makes a good denouncement of the race my dear. Mothers are not as egotistical as you may think of them. I have told you that I have something special for you and as a mother I deserve your trust. I don't know why you should argue with me."

Vaati could not condone this. He became more charged. It was like she aroused him by those words. She would have better kept them to herself. She met what she never expected. She reminded me a day I visited my girlfriend, whom I will talk about in my next novel, Sandra, and then I was coughing. I was there behind her father's house when a cold breeze blew so harshly that I found myself coughing uncontrollably. He flung his hands repeatedly quarrelling, "And where is it? I can't..."

His mother responded politely trying to calm him down, "Patience please; it pays a lot. This..."

Lucky jumped up boiling with uncontrollable umbrage, "Patience is both untimely and timely; more timely; and if it's more untimely it's no longer patience but something else, perhaps faineance. So with that in mind you need to know that a stitch in time saves nine. Don't just keep me pending thinking that I am a small kid to be seduced with a candy. I am past that age of taking my torn underwear to the tailor in the day. Simply tell me the truth and I will take it as it is. I am mature enough."

He was so serious that his mother got disturbed by his impatience. "Give me time, please," she responded charging slowly. She never expected him to be so harsh on her. As his mother, she expected all respect from him irrespective of what she was doing to him, similar to Abraham and Isaac.

"I am not yet done then you are very busy arguing with me as if you know what I am about to say. I did not expect you to be so bothering. You are as restless as loose diarrhea. You need to be patient enough." She said all these repeatedly patting his left knee in uncontrollable anger.

He at that point retrograded because he respected his mother. He was a man of good grooms. His dear mother continued lecturing wisely, "I expect you to style up immediately. I was saying this; whatever I'm going to say is more precious than you expect it to be. I'm going to say it without much ado. So you better listen. I don't understand why all this anxiety. First of all, where one door closes, another one opens-nature is always candid."

Vaati got more bemused by that statement. He was forced to interrupt again but this time round innocently, " But our house has only one door; if this closes which one else shall open? Or are you talking of that permanent window which has been shut for decades? I tried to open it a day I spotted a rat dancing in the sufuria but it could not open. Now you are very busy telling me that it will open. You are just fooling me and I won't take that. You know me better."

Their house was made of old iron sheets and had one door and then on the opposite side was a structure which would have been their window. Perhaps the person constructing the house wanted to install the window there but he forgot. Or maybe he did not know how to fix it. The house itself looked confusing.

Vaati was very serious this time round. He could not stand such fooling. He was sure that their house had only one door and if it closed no other would open. His mother, however, responded sweetly smiling, "No. I mean that if one of our hopes fails, which is possible as it is out of our control, another one will come; and the latter may be better, you never know; Jesus Christ the last Mulungu's messenger summarized all what was done by the prophets for over a million years in only three years; so never at any given time say die-perhaps that was your point of change. I tell you that not until you sink into the grave, you will live to regret, even after you die, wherever you will be, you will still regret over it; and nothing is haunting like waiting for a very long time then immediately you give up the riposte comes-you can ask Judas what he felt when he fed Jesus and His disciples for three good years and then made a slight mistake in the very last minute-he was not corrupt, no; in fact that's why Jesus Christ chose him among the twelve. He trusted him very much; much more than Peter the first Pope and John His best friend. But because of too much mercy to the disciples he loved money more than his Lord. All the work he had done for them expired that time. But I suppose if he had appointed Matthew the economist, he would have had a better way of making money. So learn to always keep the candle burning till the last minute. Fate is always doing its businesses in secret. We only see the output. And after the dusk the dawn comes and you know what it means."

She was so much conversant with the Bible. She was even aware that it was better for a widow to remain unmarried but if she could not maintain herself she could get herself another man. That is why she did not bother to marry again in spite of getting proposals day by day. She was only running for the better. Vaati had no other option other than surrendering. He agreed with her, "I agree with you that it is of no good to give up, but up to when will we wait? Time waits for no man. We can wait, well, but what prove is there that we are expecting anything?"

"Mulungu's time is the best my dear son; He, it is only, who knows why it should take so long to bring up one small baby which may at last turn out to be a disaster to its own parents while He created two big adults in only one day; worry not."

The young man was ever argumentative. He had a riposte for every word he received, always, "But Mulungu helps those who help themselves." He was very sure.

This seemed to send some light into his mother's face. She responded to this very much happily, "That's why I was out all day and He has really helped me; I have every reason to praise His holy name for; He is so wonderful, so great, so wonderfully great-and thus I am so wonderfully grateful to Him. He is the God who knows why the anus will always hold its content until you release it in spite of being upside down."

She was really happy with this. This seemed to re-energize her soul. Lucky was, however, not listening to all that lecture. He was eagerly waiting for the food. Hunger was driving him mad. He added his accurate point to that long lecture, "And what do you have then? I can't see..."

He stared at her in a tired style, like an old man immediately after the action, expecting something positive and not what she was doing then. Day and day she could still give the same story. She had all the time with him. That was not necessary then.

His mother, however, seemed to understand the condition he was in. Though he was so much bothering she did not bother to show his bother and that did not bother him either. She had all the qualities of a good mother, which was necessary. And she was inventive and innovative too. Mother, necessity, innovation... I guess these words have something in common. Our primary school motto read as Necessity is the mother of invention. Very many girls in that school ended up being single mothers, so perhaps it was a necessity and someone invented it. It is true that someone invented the motto. Perhaps they had to do so to make the school motto necessary.

She responded to that happily, " I am extremely happy today for I have got a define solution to our long lived poverty. Today will be our very last day to encounter all these catastrophes. After darkness comes light. From tomorrow and in perpetual we will grow richer day by day, and move further from this demon of poverty. Poverty is evil my dear. People won't underestimate us again. They will be singing hosanna hosanna to us day after day and some wiping our anuses."

She said this as she smiled to him, as his mother, expecting the same reaction. That to her was good news. Nobody would like to be associated with poverty. Not even the poor. The poor hate poverty too. The poor will confidently say that they are not poor. They are in the process of getting rich. Even those rich people started from a point and are still growing rich. Being rich is not a state but a process. Being poor was the state for the poor never grow. So nobody was poor.

Vaati could not believe those words. She began talking of tomorrow yet he was eagerly waiting for food there and then. He had never heard about her suffering from any mental condition. Her words made no sense to him that time. She was like a pastor telling a bar maid to avoid miniskirts which are the core items in marketing their job. All what he needed was simply food and not all the sagas she was offering. He could read by himself. If he needed stories he could read Ngugi wa Thiong'o's Matigari ma Njiruungi. He had a copy in his shelf.

He responded taken aback, "Tomorrow, really? Are you serious?"

She smiled to him Sarah's acute smile.

"Yeah. Why not? It should even be sooner than that. It is already assured. Or what demon has ruled you to be so doubtful, my dear? You must be serious sometimes." She affirmed. She never expected him to doubt her. If he did who on earth would he trust?

Vaati responded doubtfully, "And will I see the day itself? Today pastor Ruto and his fortunate family did not have their lunch here thus I had nothing to feed on, not even the common left-overs, today was a dooms day for me. He was almost crying. She did not understand the pain in his heart. She only pretended to understand, as a mother, only to make him understand that she understood. But he was really in pain. He was dying of pain. The young man was surrendering to pain. All his heart was in pain.

She held him close to her bossom with tears dropping from her eyes, "Worry not my dear son, I, too, saw them driving to the restaurant. Therefore I am aware that they were not around, however, they will spend their supper in their home; I will wait till it is late in the night then I will go and borrow the left-overs; this will keep us for the night- Mulungu knows our tomorrow-He will give us a way forward; He can't leave His people to die as He watches; He is too merciful to do so; and all things are very easy to Him. He is omnipotent. Again every cloud has a silver lining. Let's hope for the best still preparing for the worst."

She said this smiling broadly trying to incubate the pain in her heart. She was his mother. She was his father too. She had the responsibility. She had no choice. Vaati was very much taken aback by this, "The worst? Are you serious? This cannot be a dream."

She then responded smiling, "Nature is out of our control, my dear."

Lucky Vaati, Ms. Katiwa's son, got so much agitated by that he began quarrelling with her, "And is that all what you were suspending me with for all that time? You very well know that even the others are prognosticating for a better tomorrow. We all hope for it but only a few make to achieve it. We only get what we deserve not what we wish to have. When the sun rises in the morning we do not expect it to set again in the evening since we fear darkness, however, this does not make it turn back after reaching the western horizon. It will force itself to penetrate forward. The best we can do is capturing its light and storing it somewhere for the night. So, don't blindly say so," he was really bitter. He almost went to an extent of fuming in fury. He was vibrating like a drunken master in anger. His anger was now becoming uncontrollable. His mother had to look for a way to contain him for he now appeared like he'd blow out any time.

The world has really fed me with all forms of humiliation. One day I was courting and then my fiancée promised to give me everything . I was very happy. She has already promised to give all what was hers to me. I then responded happily, 'My dear, thank you very much. I will take everything from you.' She then smiled and thanked me. I was ready to receive all what she would give. But I am happy she never got the exact message I was trying to convey. If only she knew...

She came up with another lecture, "My son, in all days, the sun will always rise from the east moving westwards, but the rain will always come from the windward side; totally unpredictable. Don't dare despair dear darling doll. And first of all, who taught you to behave in such an absurd manner? I'm not yet through and then you are very busy interrupting me. Do..."

Lucky tried to defend himself to prove himself innocent, "Oh, sorry, you can carry on; I was only under a great threat of hunger, and some circumstances do not have control. You are aware of the loose diarrhoea. It can seldom respect your time schedule, whoever you are, wherever you are, however you are-you have to adhere to its orders whether you like it or not, or else, it will force you to. You have no choice. But I wonder. Let's say for example Uhuru is on the podium giving his long complicated speech after eating Mutura from Githurai and then things get worse. Who could read his speech being so long and having so much difficult English?"

He smiled a bit this time round exposing a very wide gap between his front teeth. He was really handsome but nobody cared about that. Those days the story was about how rich you were and not how handsome you were. Money could make you handsome but your appearance could not make you rich. I was surprised to hear Mercy, my neighbor here who I have tried time and again but she only called me an ugly warthog, was calling me daddy after she heard that I had published a best selling book. My wife has a deeper one is one of my best books and it earned me at least a million sales within four days. I never expected that acceptance. That book, the novel which I will recommend to those who have love issues, is a heart moving love story. As I was proofreading it I found myself shedding empathetic tears. Thank you to all my fans. I could not understand how one could transform from an ugly warthog to a father. Not just a warthog but an ugly one. Now I am a father. Sincerely speaking, money is strong. Money has a voice. Money has the power. Money has the ability. Money carries the meaning. I had really loved her with all my heart but she did not understand me. After she turned my dream down I came across Sandra, my love, and she was ready for me as a warthog. If she accepted me as a warthog and now I am a father, should I leave her to go to my true love? Perhaps she is the one who transformed me from the warthog to a father. If I leave her will I turn to be a warthog again or will I retain the same papacy?

"You are a man and don't shame me. If I can condone, why not you? Men are made to go through the hardest way possible to make them firm to the adverse conditions around- nthi ino ndi tei. That is why Adam who was innocent was chocked by the apple but Eve, the genesis of the whole story, was not," his mother tried to coach him at least to have enough perseverance. She had confidence in him, her only son, her only husband, her only brother, her only father, her only uncle living on earth. She had to do all for him just to have him close to her.

"Ok, I shall. Carry on," he responded shamefully. As a man he knew that this was not what he should have chosen. As a man he should have shown his audacity and that would make her proud as his mother. The pride of a mother lies on her son and not daughter while the pride of a father lies on his daughter and not son. A mother needs security from her son while the father will be more after the bride wealth he is expecting. His mother continued smiling sweetly, "Well, I can understand you. But you need to know that it takes time to bring up a baby and in case one matures just in seconds cannot be termed genius. It is in fact taken as abnormal. This is what I had for you. I have at last secured a job somewhere. I hope that this will give us enough money to survive for the time being. It is better when a fruit has patches of decay than when the entire fruit is rotten. You can bite something from it. They say that a half a loaf is better. They say that it is better when you are not farting because you are sparing it for a future day than when you are doing it because you are hungry. You may find yourself in a situation where farting is the gate pass and fail to get access just because of that."

His mother was there trying to seduce him. She was a woman of possibilities by nature and saw anything before her positively. Her son got suspicious with that job not because it was worthy but because she tried to decorate it so much. from the perspective she explained. It seemed a good job. He was at last very happy. They had at last gotten a solution to their stinking life, a life full of sorrows, a life they hated but lived in. They did not choose this life. But what could they do? The goat was so happy that it was fed better than the donkey and did not work too much like the donkey, but the donkey did not tell the goat that in the last day it will meet the knife which the donkey will never meet. Soon they would be excessively rich, richer than the richest man in the area. He asked smiling, very much expectant, "What kind of a job? It may-don't tell me that soon we will be dinning with kings. Jesus Christ is the living Mulungu. And last night I had a dream."

His mother smiled at that, 'What kind of a dream, my son?'

"We were in a feast in the pastor's house. And because the pastor is a man of prayers, we had to pray for it. It was a good feast, chicken and pilau. So as they were praying my eyes were on the plate. As he prayed I was praying that he may shorten the prayer so that I could mathematically work on the chicken. It was not long when his cat came to my plate and tried to have a share. I could not imagine why only my plate. You know what? I could not stand that. I was forced to shout at the cat in the midst of the prayers. As I was chasing the cat, I tried to run only to find that I was in my bed."

He was jumping up and down in anxiety. He was trying to cross the bridge before he reached it. He started a song;

Who has the final say?

Jehovah has the final say

Who has the final say?

Jehovah has the final say

Jehovah turns my life around

Who has the final say?

Jehovah has the final say

He makes a way where the is no way

Jehovah has the final say

Who has the final say?

Jehovah has the final say

He creates a job where the is no job

Jehovah has the final say

Who has the final say?

Jehovah has the final say

Jehovah brings rice where there is no rice

Jehovah has the final say.

He was all jubilant. He never knew that after his father was killed he would be the next victim and might not be there to enjoy what he was enjoying in advance. His mother answered positively. This was a sure proof that their lives had changed for better. His mother could not afford to deceive him. She responded smiling sweetly, "You have said it my dear. Not only kings but also gods, and not only dining but also working together. I have of late been assigned a job by pastor Ruto to dig him a terrace. It is long enough to keep us for a month. Since I heard that my heart has been springing up with unfathomable bitter bliss", she enforced in a more happier mood, "Just extravagant ebullience. I am telling you my dear. Oh...Mulungu is so greatly great, so wonderfully wonderful. He is Elshadai. We shall not die."

She too broke into a song like her son;

'Yote yawezekana

Kwa imani

Yote yawezekana

Kwa imani

Mungu ameleta kazi

Kwa imani

Mungu ameleta kazi

Kwa imani'

She was again celebrating! Lucky was very much taken aback by this," A terrace? Long? Mom? Haven't you gone crazy? Are you not really sober?"

He could not believe that. He expected something good yet she was talking of digging a terrace. After suspending him for so much time this was the best she could tell him. She would have better kept it for herself. To him it made no sense. It disappointed him so much that tears dropped from his eyes in anger. His mother responded heartily, "Yeah, why not? Don't you believe? Why is your heart so stiff?" She smiled looking direct into his eyes. He stood and moved a distance from her.

"Being a woman and again widowed, don't you fear? We are tirelessly talking of women rights yet you are here tirelessly trying to abuse them; even the devil can't forgive you. I swear. And before you take that action you need to look before you leap. Remember that better safe than sorry."

He began commanding her bitterly. He could not believe this at all. But she still stood firmly with her idea, perhaps wisely or in a stupid manner. She responded smiling as if nothing bad had happened, "It is in fact a bitter bliss to have such an opportunity. Again fortune favours the bold, my dear son. Only old age will come without struggling. You need to learn that. You have to go through the hard way for you to succeed. Every successful man has a bitter story to tell. Kila polisi ako na pengo angalau moja."

He was now quarrelling her bitterly, his eyes directly on her face, "Discretion is the better part of valor, mum; or is this body not yours? Why misuse it in such a way? Mulungu shall penalize you for misusing His holy temple. I can assure you."

"My son, there is nothing like a free lunch, and not unless you climb onto a mango tree and go for the sweet mangoes, they will forever be there gazing at you no matter how ripe," she too was as good as her son in supporting her point. She had as enough reasons as required. And maybe this was the reason as to why she was still single in spite of being surrounded by very thirsty men. The men around her area did not see a lady who was single and just left her alone. The lucky ladies were those who were already pregnant but could be booked still being pregnant so that immediately after delivery she conceives again. The men in this area were very much observant with the commandment that tells us to give birth and fill the earth. If they were to be punished because of breaking any of the commandments given, it was not this one. They took it with the gravity it deserved.

Lucky was more angry with that, "Don't you see the danger in that? Why can't you go for another alternative job? If you can't pity yourself, who shall do it for you? Common sense should be familiar to you even though not common."

"Never at any given time look a gift horse in the mouth. I may cry for another job and lose this one. There are people crying for a job like mine. Let me first do this and then he may give another after seeing my hard work. A bird in hand is worth two in the bush. Again this is only but a sweet sorrow to me, " she laughed loud enough to awaken the dead. Lucky shook his head in disbelief. She then added, " Even if you deny, it is true. Mere truth."

"Now you must be out of your mind. How..." He tried to explain his point but she interrupted him.

"My son, When a mother is in labour she experiences the greatest pain ever known to man, however, her agony can't be compared to the gratification she brings to the world. I have no otherwise, or what else should we do? Should we turn to gangsters? You have just told me that some needs do not understand what you are experiencing and need to be satisfied in whichever way. For the time being this is the best I can do. If not so we will die of hunger. I'm even very happy to have that one Mulungu-given opportunity. What I need to do is to utilize it before it vanishes. A chance comes only once in a life time. The sun rises once a day. After it sets it is gone never to be seen again that day. A banana trunk flowers only once in its lifetime."

Lucky was totally surprised by that. He was a bit confused. He could not believe how this was to happen and he did not know any lady yet, "And will you not die and leave me alone? Will I have anybody to call brother or sister? It would sound better if I die and leave you. You can replace me with a sister or a brother. It is better when the water spills than when the pot breaks for the same pot can be used to hold water again. You need to see it from that perspective, only for our own good."

He tried as much as he could to defend himself. He could not allow her to risk her life blindly like the proverbial ostrich. She too, however, could not allow to be defeated. She tried as much as she could to support her point, "Take heart my son, it will be better than when we die together. Don't forget that you are the only one in our family. You have no brother nor sister and the worst of all no father to give you a sister. You will be required to prolong our genealogy. You have no choice. After trees grow old, they have to be replicated by younger ones. My sun is of course and with no doubt almost setting while yours is vibrantly gaining height in the east. So it is now your time. I need to do my best to make sure that you have the best from me. So for your information, it will be my joy if I die and you live. I wish that you live longer, my dear son. You need to enjoy life like us. We have had our share of the pleasures of this life. The remaining part is yours. I love you very much."

"Thanks. I love you too."

She delayed a bit as he was waiting for what was next. He did not know what she wanted to say. She began, 'My son, it was not my wish to go through all these but if your underwear is torn you will always remove it together with your trouser to hide it. It is better when they say that you don't wear an underwear than when they say that your underwear is torn. So, I have to pay this