I once used to graze my grandfathers cows, goats and sheep around the Kiambindu hill near Ishiara. This involved taking them out of their boma, driving them across the dusty Ishiara town, pushing them towards the hill and then watching over them as they munched on the green green grass. The goats were more infuriating because they could not stay in one place for long. They would separate themselves from the cows, bleating meeh meehe and take off into a different direction. I would shout at them (I wonder whether they actually used to hear my shrill and childish voice); follow them and turn them around using a stick or stones thrown ahead of them. (I learnt then that not all animals are the same) Then of course I would drive these animals to the river to drink water And as you all know, you can take a cow to the river but you cant make it drink the water. The cows would spread themselves around the river bank, sun bathing and chewing their curd while I read my hunky novel (I always carried around a book to read whenever I ventured into the bush to look after cows). The boys who were co grazing with me would try all means to disturb me but my seriousness could put them off, so lucky me I was never harassed nor raped in those bushes. So now and then I like to refer to myself former herds girl who got a lucky break. Other times I say I am one of th girl children whom NGOs are always talking about only that there we no NGOs in our side of country. When I look back, I am amazed at how God has worked his will in my life. I dedicate this night to the memory of my maternal grandfather, John Njiru Mbaririe, pioneer of Ishiara Town. He cared for me LIKE no biological father would. He is the one who did my shopping when I was admitted to Ngandu Girls High School in Karatina. He gave me pocket money and always gave me money to buy some clothes during Christmas time. The clothes were those minara dresses that are usually made at Uhuru Market in Nairobi. They are brought to the rural markets in bales where they are sold by over enthusiastic sales men who ring a bell, play loud music etc to attract buyers. I always remember the dress I wore when I turned 16 years. I remember it because just this week, I say a Dinka girl wearing a similar dress and then I told myself, I used to be like that girl. This herds girl is now sleepy.
Posted on: Fri, 06 Jun 2014 18:47:40 +0000
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