How’s you doing in the big city in the sun? Ever since you left, the village seems dull. And all the work at the farm kills me. Labda tu shida ya pesa, but I hope this year the coffee shall come with better prices.
Life is still the same in the village. Nothing big has happened lately. Ok, maybe that Jacinta recently got triplets, and you’ve been mentioned among the top most likely dads by the village women. Maybe it’s the uncanny flappy ears.
They keep asking me for your current cell contacts. But I don’t have that. I long since stopped saving all the numbers you call me on. Kevoh Bro. Kevin Brother. Kevin Latest. Kev Nairobi. Kev Orange Nairobi. Kevo Bro Equity. Kev Main Airtel. Et cetera.
I stopped saving them, lest my phone-book grows full.
Perhaps, you should visit and clear your name. Or, perhaps honor that name. The triplets – all are girls. You’ve always loved girls, he he. But I rethink that – Please don’t visit now. Where do we get the land to give them? Let’s see if someone else claims the triplets. Your Jacinta was a popular one.
Our father still grows grander with age, and takes more liking towards his wine. Perhaps, it’s his time. Let him enjoy his retirement. Hasn’t he single-handedly brought us up, after mama died? Cooked and schooled us all? At least you made a banker, and little sister is in medical school. I didn’t have much affinity for school, but who would have taken over the farm if we had all gone to the city?
Plus I love singing, but papa thinks it’s too sissy.
think its ok for him to retire and enjoy his wine. He retains his authority, though. Many a times he makes me feel like a school boy, when he scolds. And he wonders if Jacinta’s triplets are yours. Yes, the whispers have reached him.
Maybe, you should dig up one of your many contacts and call him. I hear Airtel to Airtel calls are free? He has one.
Do you meet our little sister in the city often? She came home over Easter weekend, and brought a guest. She came with a thin, tall lad with dreadlocks and a face tattoo – two tiny tear drops below his right eye. I think it looked pretty cool, but father didn’t like it. He thought that they didn’t look very prayerful, after little sister told him that the lad was her prayer partner.
The guy told me he was an artist. He liked drawing things on bridges, walls and bus stations. Who pays him for that? Father says real men are bankers, teachers, doctors and soldiers.
Little sister didn’t seem to care what we all thought. She told us ‘to shove it’.
On Easter Sunday, they had planned a hike to the hill we used to hunt as kids. I decided to tag along, though I know most of the forest has been cleared by charcoal burners. There are hardly any rabbits. Or, dik dik, even.
Anyways, on we went. They had some juice and biscuits. I don’t like that. I carried some of father’s yams and oranges. The artist guy also had a little stereo box with Bluetooth and memory slot. He pledged to leave it with me. Next time you come home, bring me a phone with Bluetooth.
After they solve Jacinta’s triplets puzzle.
Look at me, going on and on about nothing and everything. I had a thing to whisper. About our little sister. She’s no longer as little as we thought.
On the hike, she gave me a piece of chocolate they had been sharing. I thought it was just chocolate – it wasn’t. It had a faint smell of that other stuff we used to grow behind the cow shed. I don’t want to mention weed here, lest the CIA is listening.
I didn’t know they now cooked it in chocolate. I also don’t like smoking it. Father knows the smell. The chocolate was great, but dangerous. I felt funny in the pit of my stomach. My legs felt wobbly, and we didn’t walk so far up the hill.
Side Bar: If you happen to be in your 30’s, you’ve probably done all there is to do in the vibrant under-world of drug abuse. You have either sold, peddled, shared, recommended or knocked yourself out with some sort of drug in your 20’s.
Thou shall not mess with any drug for curiosity’s sake, past your early twenties. It’s a bad idea.
Anyways, dear bro, I couldn’t believe these prayer partners could snack on a whole weed-chocolate bar, and still keep up the walk and chatter.
I don’t have much else to write, but I’ll keep you updated on the Jacinta issue. I also hear Nairobi is a land of beautiful streets, tall buildings and lovely girls. I’ll visit sometime, and sample the latter.
Your little brother, Maish.
P.S. when I finally start singing, what name d’ya think I could pick for the stage? I don’t intend to be Nameless. Pun intended. He he….