May i remember well, and in the process receive accolades from those of us favored to spend our childhood together in spontaneous games and jests as the weather dictated. No did i say the weather? We welcomed the oddities of nature and on most occasions had to be pulled forcefully by the ears to get indoors away from dancing in the rain and even After the rains had subsided and the remaining mud sludge was forcing every other person to skim-walk, we the children were without skates yes! But skidding like hell on the mud, free style!! That and the other ingenuous catastrophic games we hacked that guaranteed us several cane lashings from the parental class-yes, the home environment was much of a communal set up, both praise and beatings could come from the corresponding party wherever, whenever spontaneously!
I wish to delve into the full episodes detailing why i still miss my childhood days but am sore afraid the tinkering laughter will make my jaw bone ache as i move through the ”cock’s broken leg”, ”the long goose chase after ‘ndrrr‘….’- the insect that looked and sounded like a flying plane, ‘Hey! run‘- when the act of pulling away the young maize plants was not as innocent as it looks. Lol.
Over and above, i have realized that these are but apart of the reasons why i love children, why i feel for them, why i would advocate for their full blossom to put an umbrella over their heads when it rains like it did yesterday much in style, fashion and volume as predicted by the met department just recently. Only this time the were no children running about like in the village atmosphere i grew up on, neither were there those running and skidding afterwards but both we hunched together indoors as the rain zoomed down in huge torrents which lasted for hours and soon, the Nairobi river overflown it banks to terrorize the nearby houses, creating total displacement of immediate families who had to scamper for safety and watch from a distance the water’s mud rush through their belongings even as they hoped to salvage whatever shall remain of their hard gotten belongs…
Young Becky 5′, Peres 4’ and their mother stood pensively in the outside cold perhaps oblivious of the rain beating them as their eyes are completely focused on the mad rushing waters and what shall become of it, they had woken up an hour ago after the waters had gained entry into their abode forcing them to vacate in a hurry towards the higher grounds, a group of other victims have also gathered standing a safe distance away, It’s the norm here wherever the huge rains knock and every-time following, though we might not remind our children to keep vigil, yet somewhere in their conscience it is written ”Sleep not Child for the Rains are Here…”