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The struggle with many a rigid Logooli cultural practices

  The Logooli community is one of the deeply cultured societies – with near everything supposed to have been done as per custom – to allow another custom to follow. One example is that for a mature man (with a child or more) to be buried, there must be a house structure at home. Another is that a boy must be circumcised and nursed in father land. If maternal family decides to, the boy will have a hard time reconnecting with father people - a dent on his masculinity. There were two children who got burnt to death in a house in Nairobi. The single mother had left for night work. Elders were told that one of the children was Logooli. The other, the woman had sired with someone else. The Logooli family wanted to burry their little one and long discussed the do’s and don’ts. Of a man who died childless and the grave was placed as if he had died as a man with children. It should have been dug on the sides, the grave. A real thorn should have been thrust in his buttocks, his name go...

MOON; 04-09-2015 (New Adventure)


You read about yesterday and where I was planning to go. I am there.

There is a comment I however noted it did not appear on the very post. Internet wrangles. I was still thinking of the beggars who were playing music on the road. There was an idea that it can happen that they will no longer beg again. There used to be no beggars before. And if we can constructively bring them on board, that is a problem solved and the son of soil will have done his purpose. I could not see the moon in the morning and therefore I continued to itch from late bedbugs.

The comment was of a spectacular show in the sky. I had dreamt that there were so many moons in different shapes and stars bright in the sky at once! And then came acronym words with hidden meaning coming and going in the sky. I sensed a warning.

And so after activities in the day- meeting more beggars in town and thinking about them- we left to Ukambani. It was Odhiambo’s first time. I met brother Wambua in Machakos. We then stood in the full bus and had a moving journey.

On alighting, I could not look down. Eyes were up. See! See! They must be galaxies! How well the stars ruled up there. The light caused shadows! Yes! When my eyes looked down well, I saw my shadow! I wanted to live once again. I wanted to take off to one star. I walked swiftly and gladly on the dusty road and shrubby land.

A wedding ceremony. Traditional. There was no place to sleep. But there was a fire and music to keep me up. After all, my eyes have not known the advantages of sleep for a week or so. It was time to punish them. And just then, sitting, turning my eyes back, there the skies spoke! A golden moon, reflecting golden light…I could see a glow. Odhiambo could not do otherwise but to join me in picture taking and listening to my illusions. 

The moon shone till I saw a different sun. The sun that would herald another moon. It is included in the next moon…keep posted.

How comfortably the golden moon sat in the sky!

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