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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...
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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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