Six months after completing my eighth grade, i parted ways with my village buddies,
Still young and naive, I made up my mind to leave for the city in search of greener pastures,
I saw how our parents were struggling to feed us, how they paid for our studies,
Mum used to cook chapatis and sell them at the marketplace while dad was among the top regional beekeepers,

The previous night as we sat at our grass-thatched kitchen, eating Ugali with greens,
I stared at my little sister, licking her fingers after finishing her meal,
That was a true indication that she didn’t get enough, her stomach was silently pleading for more beans,
It was daunting to grow up in a family that survived on hand to mouth, i didn’t have the audacity to appeal,

My little siblings were in fourth and fifth grades consecutively, so it wasn’t getting better,
Being a first born in a family of five called for more toilsome responsibilities,
So i dropped off my fears, packed my clothes and wore the sporty shoes of a pacesetter,
I waved goodbye to my kinsmen and treaded towards the bus station, out to the world of possibilities!