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Izava Walk : My shoe gawked
Mama Pauline told me I'd reach Yala in the day. What a hope ! I was thinking that night would find me nowhere. Now I had a reason to rock harder. As a sign, wind blew west, where I headed, making me lighter and assuring no rain would come to cut it short. Mama Pauline was with some kids down there probably fetching firewood. She spoke so nicely. So nicely.
And at ematse village, there was a huge parcel of land with young guava trees that beautified the valley bottom. Between the lands Izava flowed. Something moved in the bush and thanks God I was not attacked. There I'd be pawed even by a squirrel if it had the guts. Vulnerable, I was. The villages around were vulnerable too for spring were not many.
From Butongoi, mrichire stream flowed. Opposite Esukuyu stream came in. Two bridges successfully followed another here, Ebukanga-Mungiti and Ebukhanga-Mukhunzuri. Between, esikuyu stream flowed. The latter bridge is the work of Kenneth Marende while still a member of Emuhaya.
My left shoe gawked and I remembered the cobbler I had met by the path. It was still in position and would take me the rest of the journey. God! Just when I wanted to quench thirst at Omukato spring I found it dry. Unlucky. I had also entertained the thought of meeting the love of my life by a spring. Unlucky. Omukhato spring was built in 2015 by SOFDI organisation and in early 2017 dry!
No tea plantations I saw as it was in Maragoli land. What I saw were the musikuku, murukangu and Ematete from Emukhunzu streams. And at Ananda, the mother of Izava inflows gushed in. Its name is Jordan river. Why they called it so? When they called it so? It was as big and loaded as Izava. It's origins are not limited to Maragoli hills, Ebusiraziand Kima. And Izava was not the small river anymore. Crossing would need a careful move. This is as a naked chap who was in for a bath directed my legs as he hold my hand. I was moved by how least he was concerned with himself. Jerry hung between. Circumcised.
Drinking water I got at Muyambuli spring. I drank and refilled the bottle. It was dabbed community project and its water flowed to the snailing Izava. On, a spring called Joshua came in view and I thought I was at Yala on hearing a tarmac road. Murave stream from Atika hill flowed thereabout.
The road was Musalaba-Buyangu junction. Poor me. How long more? The sun shone.
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