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Luanda Reggae Defenders - what is your long term agenda?

Luanda Reggae Defenders is a now a popular movement with roots in Vihiga and border Siaya and Kakamega counties Attention is brought to the manner and conduct the movement has gained fame and followers, mainly the Youths. The movement capitalizes on funerals. With a poor culture of putting the dead to rest, the Reggae Defenders have taken it by storm and rebranded the infamous ‘Disco Matanga’ – disco at funeral. Reggae Defenders on move. Pic: Charles Rankings: Facebook They mobilize quickly on the day the dead will be discharged from the mortuary. They have this huge old school sound system that is over buzzing to no clear reggae song - that they hire a pickup to carry - and it has a young DJ mainly standing there than mixing anything. Often, against the rules, the casket is grabbed from a hearse vehicle and tied to a motorbike. There it will be swayed and jerk breaked between other motorbikes on the narrow roads. That, is, how a fellow soldier, often a young dead, is mourned. ...
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Izava Walk : Which Direction Ahead?

The first day (time) for any activity is usually anxious. What the mind had preconceived could turn be inferior or superior to actuality. Knowing where North is was part of the confusion. While facing East, Where is North? Since grade three I have had this unknowing. It gets unclear when you are in a new place whose moon is spotted in the wrong direction!

Mr. Levi said that Egypt is always North! You'd see the peak of Mt. Kilimanjaro there on a clear day. He pointed. The sun was rising and a spring bore the first stream by the valley bottom of Seremi market. Only the tallest eucalyptus shined golden at the peak. If the tree is cut, suggested Levi, the spring would have more water. 8 gallons to the air before the sun sets in West!

'Now the dew is reduced. You came very early,' he said. He'd loved woodwork while a student at Technical High School (now Friends School Chavakali Boys). Then I did beat a path ahead leaving the carpenter sandpaping a kiti moto. Business brought me here, he had argued.

The first stream could have sourced its water further beneath had the place not turned a maize farm. Soil loosely dropped in the trench as a woman weeded. Presence of uncountable eucalyptus in the first five hundred metres showed the trenches fitly deep, heel to thigh depth, with little water yet. Nappier grass, sugarcane and Tea came close when eucalyptus excused them.

When side soil succumbs in and the water is effortless, a pathway beneath the lump is necessitated. Observing that, a Tiriki woman who had suggested we go home for tea narrated some clans in Tiriki... Vigina, Vadimburi, Vaguga, vasaria, vakhuvera, vasaina, varokhova...

Kalahari being South, we had run from Pharaoh's enslavement/upheavals in Sahara. Had we not put on a breastplate of pride while in Canaan, laughing at the lame instead of dirt, we could be still one with the creator. So where is Canaan? I asked. It is this Land. It used to be productive.  But now!!

A road crossing the river goes to Kapsotik on the left and Mungavo on the right. Jumba is the common name around. Whether the river leads West wasn't conversant because the sun did change its forward direction.

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