Milk Dairy Mumblings- How to stop the forest fires

I dreamt a baboon was chasing me. I ran and tripped on the loose soil of the potato trenches and woke up very frightened. I don't like baboons, they scare me and it doesn't help I had to see them every other day growing up.
When my uncle called me -nugu ino- I told his girlfriend then, please tell my uncle not to call me a baboon.  He took it very seriously and called me other names instead: wakahare(squirrel), gitoore(not sure what it is in english), ngware(spotted wild chicken).


When the baboons came to eat the maize planted near the house, I pretended to chase them away, but all I did was call chui, my dog to bark at them. But, I also felt sorry for the ugly things, especially the ones that had little baboonlets on their backs.

I didn't call them out until I thought they each had something to take back home. It was the same when the vulture tried to carry off one of grandmother's little lambs, I thought he must be really hungry to try get one, right in front of the house. We had eight of those, there was enough to go around.

cucu's lambs: my little cousin Chriswell's photo collection

The Aberdare forest is on fire, and I have a splitting headache. I know, I should be worrying about a retirement plan, health insurance and another pair of neat shoes, since my daily one wore out. Those are things that can get fixed, like rent and food, they always get taken care off, somehow, but how do you stop a forest fire?

Last time they brought in men. Truckloads of them to cut grass and quench the raging fire.They said they,  'would set fire on the opposite side, and when the two fires met, they would burn themselves out.'
I remember wondering, to myself, in my heart why they didn't ask the local met to assist. Not for free of course, give them 200bob, and mkate na soda madiaba for lunch. Involve them.

I grew up 500 meters from the Aberdare National Park fence.I went to Aberdare Academy.
The fires were constant. At night the  orange flames succeeded sunset and I would be afraid to sleep in case, like they said, a strong wind came and blew the fire all about. We would be massacred(sic).

There were many theories about the said forest fires:

Poachers who dropped a cigarette butt
Woodcutters who lit a fire to boil tea and forgot to urinate on the fire
Honey harvesters who spiked too much fire for the smoke.

Nobody was very sure.

As you can imagine, I spent a lot of time looking into that forest. I was awed by the big trees. The occasional nguyo jumping from tree to tree. I would have liked to take a stroll in that bush.

At night, the mighty River Honi gushed like floods. My uncle would tell me how big the river was, how buffaloes swam right across and if you got the right fishing equipment you could get a big fish out, but if they caught you, you served time.

Why? I would wonder. It's just a fish. I had never eaten a fish.
In my mind the waterfall was a big as Victoria  Falls.

For a longtime, there were two elephants living  just near the fence. They grazed near the fence, I took a picture, 2010 but my desktop monitor won't start  I'll share the picture another time.

On Sundays,when an elephant was sighted, someone would whistle and yell- Njogu!- soon people would stream into our fields to look at the elephant. We would be quiet.

Elephants hate noise, they said
We looked, and smiled and sighed.

Half an hour later, the small gathering would hang around for tea. The women sat on the grass. The men hang about the cowshed. I was sent to bring out mukimo, and warm the tea.

-Hey, u nyamu iyo ti nene-- one woman would exclaim.
iwee, iyo mungitungana nayo, kwisha maneno-

and the men would argue facts:
- do you know an elephant must die in the same place it was born?
- and it must be escorted by two mature elephants-
- but now,,,, people have settled everywhere, where would they pass?-
-why can't they ask as to go into that forest, o mundu na kiondo kia mbembe-we plant maize and plums for those baboons. no tukiremwo?-

we would not even ask for seeds

and we can do a variety

-But I think baboons just come here to socialize, not that they are hungry matunda maria mari githaka kiria itinginina-


Recently I heard a few people in my village had been killed for  pouching and cutting down trees. At first I Yaaaayed! Take that, stupid poachers, then I looked around and thought.
Ok.When the people of Endarasha were settled next to that forest, did anyone ever sit them down and tell them:

Guys, you know, this forest is a very important asset. These trees are the reason you can plant all year round. And the animals in this forest, they bring in some money for the country.

What we saw, and see, are tourists driving into the forest in Land-cruisers. We would wonder why a mzungu would come all the way from Europe kuona Nugu. At times they stopped, ran behind a tree to take a picture of us herding  the cows to the river- ehm, honestly? No wonder they  are paying to look at baboons. Craaaaass.

I know the two elephants are no more, and the big trees have been re-placed by stumps and climbers.

In primary school the teachers arranged for tours into the forest. We saw some baboons and buffalos.

At night. the lights are bright at the Treetop Hotel and The Ark.

But, how about the adults? I am an adult now and starting to  see their view point. So, if all I know about this big extensive forest is that it is the reason I harvested two bags of maize instead of ten; what will stop me from grabbing an axe, marching into that forest and swing off a couple of branches to sell for firewood?

I hate poaching I'm sure but not sure if I hate poachers

The locals can be blamed for killing elephants and  felling  trees, but have they been educated about wildlife? I've listened to people say:

-If I was given, just 5k to kill all the manugu in this forest, I would use it to buy poison, and a gun-

Because it's all we know the forest to be about. A breeding ground for baboons to come and eat our maize.



My headache blew up into a migraine.
But I'm fine now.

Teacher Teacher- Kamande wa Kioi

Teacher Teacher- Kamande wa Kioi

Teacher teacher teacher, my teacher

Wherever we shall meet,  just know I shall give you a kiss.

You did not lie to me when you told me five plus five becomes 10

You told me Mt.Kenya has Snow

And the waters of River Sagana and Athi River do not mix

I did my research carefully and found out you did not lie to me.

My teacher you told me the heart of a snake is in the head

And it is true because when we want to kill a snake we aim for the head.

You said the heart must beat 72 times and it’s true because I check mine and it has never stopped.

Teacher Teacher- Kamande wa Kioi

Teacher teacher teacher, my teacher

Wherever we shall meet,  just know I shall give you a kiss.

You used to tell me K and K in English is double K and it’s true because 
When people call me Kamande wa Kioi I respond.

You told me fish in kimonimoni( English)is called Fish

And every good looking girl is called beautiful

And every good looking man is called Handsome.

Zacchaeus is the name for everyone who is short,

All tall people are called Cain,

 And big people like me are called Bouncer.

Teacher Teacher- Kamande wa Kioi

Teacher teacher teacher, my teacher

Wherever we shall meet,  just know I shall give you a kiss.

You told me Vasco da Gama was born in Karatina

 And you told me Simon Makonde was a Turkana.

 All the disciples  of Jesus were born in Oljororock

 And it’s true because the chief of Jororoko is called Judas

 Hitler, the one who was King you told me was from Kibicoi

 And you didn’t lie to me when you told me he was a classmate of Paul.

 That is why Paul is untouchable

If you step on him he slaps you

Teacher Teacher- Kamande wa Kioi

Teacher teacher teacher, my teacher

Wherever we shall meet,  just know I shall give you a kiss.

A hungry person you told me is said to be hungry

 An ugly person is ugly like a warthog (ngiri)

An angry person is called angry

 I don’t know if I am normally hungry, ugly or angry

(This last stanza is sang twice)

Teacher Teacher- Kamande wa Kioi

Teacher teacher teacher, my teacher

Wherever we shall meet,  just know I shall give you a kiss.

(Spoken)

I must give you a kiss

 And if you ran I’ll run after you

 Yes teacher

 You never lied to me

 My teacher

 That is why I shall give you a kiss.

I like Kamande wa Kioi because he knows the main reason why  people make songs, which is to entertain. He sings carelessly which makes his songs fun to listen to, when you think too much about your art, it starts to become a science and the fun goes out of it(note to self).

Apart from the political songs  that got him in the courts sometime, I enjoy when he sings about  getting compensation for his cat that was run over by a boda boda, how he shall not join the obsession about quills and instead invest in magogo(crows) and how one day he belched in church. He also plays a trumpet which is one of my favourite instruments.

Next on translations

Niunguaga wana- You make a fool of me

We were beaten- Reke turimwo

Gathoni, I want you to be my legal wife- Gathoni, nigwenda utuike wakwa wa mburi

Wayuni let me pass with someone- Reke hetuke na mundu

I prefer Maths to Love- Kaba Mathabu
Shiru's Contact- Namba ya Shiru
Beautiful bride- Kihiki Beauty 

Creative writing- How do you do it?

Soft, easy pealing chapos, how do they do it?

Mery and Me

This is my friend Mery. I call her Meery and she calls me Sesilia, for the last 11 years. Her couch is my  best friend, and whenever anything doesn’t sit right in my head: decisions, confusion, celebrations, I always find myself on her sofa.

We trade narrations until her child has to be picked from school. I get up to clean utensils, then her husband comes home and me and his wife continue our talk to the bus stop. Then she will tell me, sisi tuko wawili tunatafuta, shika, and give me a busfare.

So the other day, as I sat on her couch, cutting Sukuma wiki for lunch she folding laundry, she stops and asks me- where do you get your stories? Unanjua, there is a man who told me that people who write songs, hawafikirii, uwa wanakunjiwa na hizo nyimbo wakiwa wamelala. Is it the same, aw do you do it?

It is the same, when I start to write, it just comes, I tell her.

Unaona, that man told me the same, ati it just comes. Why does it come to some people and not to others?

Unayua Sesilia mtu anaweza kuwa muchawi na ujui...

When she says mchawi, I start to think of the many times I have staggered out of bed to scribble down something that-just came- I don’t tell her incase she gets more reason to claim I get visions in the night. I start to defend myself.

 Maybe it’s because I read a lot, Maybe it’s because I spent a big chunk of my life not talking, just observing, things, people, buildings,clothes,old furniture, people with hair that starts as circle in the middle of their head and spirals to cover the rest of the head. 

Feet, climbing plants, tree trunks, market women with large, checked aprons with a cream front pocket bulging with cash and a face towel that works as a handkerchief to wipe sweat, blow the nose and wipe nyanya so they gleam like someone smeared Valon on them.

Young boys standing at street corners, where the wall is brown with mud from last season’s rain, they’re dancing to music from their infinix. Old men with folds of skin and a distinct smell, street hawkers with black plastic bags sticking out of their back pockets, one eye watching out for kanju, one eye making eye contact with customers.

 

 Big red fires dancing under oversized aluminium barrels of boiling intestines, and cow tongues, and ears, outside meat shops, with boda boda drivers, clutching tin mugs of meat soup.

 A donkey with knees and shoulders bruised, nibbling on grass growing on the sides of dirty drainage canals. Donkey owners who think donkeys know only one English word- oh, ooh, oh.

Supermarket attendants so worn out at 8.00pm, they startle when you smile at them.  Check out girls with pink lipstick, always on the bottom lip, and thin drawn line for eyebrows, looking fresh at 8.30pm.

 Dogs fast asleep outside the bar, legs wide apart.

 Bougenveilia, cascading down the wall of the kindergarten. Female school teachers in short pencil skirts, with a light blue cotton lace of the petticoat’s slit, cutting in the middle of the skirt’s slit.

 Tanzanian Maasai playing security guards at the new flat, looking misplaced, they just learnt to wear the dressy pants and Chicago bulls T-shirt.

 Teeth. Long teeth, short teeth that look a bit like a cows jaw.  Rice sellers with rice in polythene papers stuck high, you start to look for  a pin in your pouch,  white rice shower.

Two luo women having a serious discussion in Luo, you nod in agreement.

So I told Mery:

 I observe what is going on around me

 And when I get home, the sounds, the sights, the people, the language, it refuses to stay in my head.

So I write

 

 How do you do it? You can tell me .