When you can't hide the evidence
The desert has shocked me.
You know I used to teach history and government, and I would tell the students, to them, it's not History, cause they are still practicing it.
These people are still migrating. Hunting and gathering is still a means of livelihood here. I have not participated in migration, but I have hunted. Oh, and don't I have news? Hare meat is sweet. So sweet. How about antelope's? That meat is so tender you don't need a knife to slice it.
I do not participate a lot in antelope - hunting because one needs to get deep into the bush. I can't do that.
But for hares, unlike antelopes, you don't need to do much search. You only need Luo's stone-throwing skills and ensure your aiming is perfect. My colleagues and I find them all over whenever we are going or coming back from school. Any time I'm doing this, I'm reminded of the good old days â back in primary school, when life was so simple, during the mango season where we would stop at every mango tree by the road side to throw stones at the mangoes. The number of mangoes you ate depended on your skills.
What shocked these Rendilles is how we, people from down country fed on small animals like hares. Or rabbits. Ooh! And chicken too. I almost forgot to tell you that Rendilles don't feed on birds, especially the 'dirty' ones like chickens that scratch the ground for food. Pastoralists claim chickens are dirty and they can't eat them. Sigh! 𤣠You should see the 'clean' pastoralists! 8th wonder of the world. Mcheka kilema kingali kwake.
Our good boys, after a period of culture shock from us eating rabbits, decided to help us with hunting. Our days of enjoying a dinner of cheaply acquired meat became easier and more enjoyable. No work done. Thanks to the boys. But these ones remained real morans. They were never influenced by our culture of eating small animals. It was not long after the 'sophisticated elite' teachers who left the village for college education joined us in our rabbit-eating scheme
If my wedding is going to look like this, then I'm in.
This means me and my babe will be entertained. I mean look at the way that girl is ruling the stage nah! Heey!
If not something like this, then it's a hard pass! I cannot wear net all day, force a smile all along to entertain fake crowd that has come to eat my food for free, judge my husband then leave shamelessly. Never! Can't be me. Count me out.
This is what I was talking about on dating a Meru man. For those who don't understand, I'll ask Jack Murithi Waba Kendi to translate.
It's 'nkwaje' for me đ