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The Kamnara of Sakwa are making ground to build for future generations

Greetings from the Kamnara of Sakwa! The Kamnara people of Sakwa on 27th December 2024 gathered at Village Park, Ajigo (near Bondo). Hosted by Kwaka Joseph, they hearkened to the consultative forum call, arriving in good numbers and early enough for a successful day. The gathering was chaired by Mr. Nying’ro James Onyango, a former (retired) assistant commissioner of Police. The introductions were excellent. The genealogies were mentioned in reverence, lengthy ones applauded. And courtesy of Enos Oyaya’s book, “Kamnara my people”, anyone who would need help had the documentation. Oyaya had launched the Kamnara book on 30th December 2022 at his home in Kamnara Mwalo, an event that gathered Vakamnara from far and wide. “What can we do that the generations to come will benefit from?” This was the clarion Mr. Kwaka Joseph called on all to fashion their minds to. And issues were raised in the fields of Education, health, agriculture, enterprise, politics and more that the swift dholuo would...
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Bike Fall

The elbow hurts and if I do not take care, one day I shall not have the hands to type an article. The bicycle is the simplest and safest mode of transport known if you know to apply brakes before a bump, to manoeuvre on stones and alight when you don't trust yourself.

Cane transporting trailers passed slowly as I cycled on gear one. The first had no place to hold. The second had. Quickly, my right hand got hold. Being the first time ever, I had a quarter a second moment of adapting. Easy! I was being pulled along nicely for people to see!

The trailer driver had zigzagged to signal discomfort with my act. Tonnes of canes were aboard and my holding was insignificant. I could not have understood that till I was bruised.

A tractor was slow descending to Lunyerere. I overtook it like a pro. Across the river I changed the gear. Quick cycles but least propulsion, I went. A guy with the old phoenix was pushing as required. Ahead, a green coloured mountain bike was reachable. Legs increased their revolutions.

But before I reached the guy, the tractor trotted behind and the intensity of its engine signalled a fast speed for it. When it neared, I assessed for points of  grasp. I saw a hook point when it was already a metre ahead. Two gears more and I had caught it. The bike guy may have seen a joker of a biker.

The hill was being tamed. Fast, the chimney gritting, I controlled the bike with the left hand. I passed people quickly. Bumps lay ahead but the ride was too joyful to take a moment of thought. We were now passing Mbale Boys gate.

Up down, up down and I had lost control. It was late in letting the tractor go. Uncontrollable motion, I fell painfully. A lady quickly crossed over to catch a matatu seconds after fall, unconcerned. The tractor had opaqued my agony in the short time I was up to beat dust. Good I was up.

I'd have entered Bliss Medicare place for spirit wipe but thought against it. I only had a hundred bob and it was better to be a customer at the cyber than be given elastoplats unnecessarily. And so I soaked a toilet paper as I googled.

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