Alas! Could probably be the perfect sigh to kick off me a back to my rich childhood . Maybe the trees to start off or rather the chef part anyway bird hunting was exemplury,i remember the long gone days when i would rise (after my mum ofcourse )creep out and shout “hurray!” at a stonethrow distance .Sonner that later squad would join .I recall my b.f.f(best friend forever) johni who was the cheekiest and literally the cheeky one (chubby).I with my kinky hair which nowadays i take pride in as trademark “kitu designer” and finally the silent one “mwagii”, which was supposed to be mwangi but due to unavoidable circumstances it remained a firm undisputable typical”mwagii”.We would trek to the famous bicycle repairer ‘fundi wa bike’ to pick bicycle tube leftovers before he arrived and considered it stealing and report us cutting short our plans at the very start .Having the ‘supplies’ at hand we would reach out to an abandoned home which was famous to almost every kid in the village for its’ hard v-shaped sticks .We would later collect papers and mwagii would show off his prowesses in the art of making a slingshots feya.We would later reach out to conquer our meat. Bold ,chests out .Oops! We had none at the time ,anyway we would aim once,twice ,thrice ……..and the birds would fly away ,ndutura ,come on .We would go disappointed in the direction of the birds ,little did we know they were leading us home ” deceivers” I recall on most occasions we would meet up with johni’s mother who wasn’t soft on his chubby cheeks and left him crying as she went to work “umetoka wapi bira furana ” ‘massage’ his rossy cheeks as we laughed at johni lungs out, he would feel embarrassed and opt to go and have breakfast we would later repeat the same the next day .What a life.The endeavor at the river was most exhilarating we would dive in showing off our skills that’s johni and I of course mwagii and others boys were watching from expertize.No lie ,why lie our clothes did just vanish in the thin air as we pursued backstroke,backstroke,butterfly,no! Never .There was always a pay for mischief but this one hardly had consequences.
During the planting season I would sponsor you ,your cousin ,your nephew ,your niece and the rest..we were way there.where was the wealth from? is the question.Hukoo(mole hunting),guthikirira(weeding) which was a tiring but lucrative business venture.Mole hunting was easier as long as one was skilled and had the hunting tools ;wire ,flexible stick,Mexican marigold,and your done. For the practical call it a date .Weeding ,was a whole kettle altogether ,mwagii, brought huge sacks , gunia ,which we stormed with, in the involved party’s shamba. Fill up the sack with weeds and get our decent pay .We would run focused to the shop and arrive panting and order skari guru and some patco .It coexisted in our mouths admirably like sprite and codeine.Ngumuu or dotty and quencher to quench our thirst without this ..Destitute..Other miscellaneous sources of funds was skrebo (scrap metal) which was ideal but not mum’s or dad’s metals .Otherwise one would sleep with whips on his backside .This venture wanted patience ,collection was key though wagithomo overexploited us so we had to wait upon the other dealers for fair prices.Harvest season wasn’t that bad kiraiku had something to offer .Perhaps the adage, when an opportunity strikes you seize it with both hands.we bought marbles.Unlike nowadays where a kid would spend the whole day playing play station and brick games .we played banyo ,(I miss this game) which I had an advantage over others due to my long fingers .We created ‘cars’ from bottles and their wheels from bottle tops or bucket lids or rather wires .My car was somewhat not attractive compared to others ,since they had bigger brothers who did the mechanical work .Ooh! How could I forget football where the entire village boys converged.the whole team contributed in collecting polythene papers to make a ball and play street football ,it was barefooted and lively .The squat boy was always the goalkeeper and the better of player decided who to play and who not to.The game would start from 2pm – 6pm ,the game was longer than messi’s at camp nou .There would be no rulers except hand balls ,no thing as rough game and the sort. I remember playing defence, midfield and striker all at the same time .Life had a lot to offer, fun defined us adventure made us.While playing the chief would stopoover and would give us a lift(in his cabin) at exactly 6:27pm while going back home in the government vehicle Lots have changed ,we parted ways with some fortunately or unfortunately ,am now Africa’s youngest most influential blogger I grab a piece of paper ,believe am dextrous with the pen and drain ink of personality with passion cause am the story .watch this space.