Izava Walk: Wamasimba Mkivanda

Apart from not marrying a clan member, the woman fetching soil near Izava did not know more about practices or customs. She only knew how to poke the jembe deeper into the sides for white soil. Sometimes before the houses in the village used be plastered with white clay during Christmas season.

A man whom she called muramwa, msuva, was by the valley bottom to get some matagaro. He had goats and they'd not be allowed in a shamba he didn't own.

On the other ridge was Wamasimba. Masimba was a village elder. He owned a big stretch of land that is evident without the parallel fences running up- farm. Down the farm, we were circumcised in 2002. The very place I stood as a man, seeing my foreskin  vibrate and vanish, is now clear with eucalyptus. Guava bushes were many and it was a bird's Haven.

Izava finds it hard to eat in the banks because the soil is clay. It therefore narrows on while banks get greener with grass. A long jumper would easily  cross. Trees that bend from side to the other would offer a curious child a way across.

Welibuga has a dense tree planting that darkens in the day. Birds were happy here. But birds chirrup not so lively without a cause. I met Prof ahead who said there is told of a snake that harbours the stretch, big like no other, afraid to approach. Had it been the  bird's spectacle and communication to me?

Wandae was another spring facing Wamasimba  endangered by the lack of rain.