I grew up in the countryside And was raised just like any other child in the village I remember being woken up very early every morning, Even if we had nothing to do Children were not to be lazy So we had to find things to do Run in the dewy grasses; play with any of the farm animals that had now become pets Many times we went to the shamba boys hut He always lit a fire that we would gather around He had the sweetest stories ARNEST was his name…later I learnt in English it pronounced Ernest He was from Uganda He told us stories of the cannibals of Uganda He said never to eat meat in a Ugandan house And he swore he wasn’t one of them For these stories, I would pay be young again.. I have a little girl Nine months and her whole life ahead of her If I lived in a farm now Would I let her go for fireplace stories? In this country at this time I cannot answer that question How about hide and seek, up in the trees, and deep in the Napier grass Together with boys and girls her age I cannot ans...
Chronicles of a former Business Journalist | Believer of the African Dream | Mother | Lover of Life| Poet