The Sun Shall Rise Again Tomorrow…

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We were raised in a tough ground, a land that knew not the sound of a running water, a dusty jungle for that matter,
Life was not easy then, papa would cycle for more than five kilometres everyday,
Just to give hope to a rising generation that was willing to eradicate poverty through education,
He was more than a teacher, little kids loved being around him, he was more of a father than a tutor,

Mama would allocate duties to everyone at home before leaving, she had a shop in the local market place,
Most of the time she would entrust me with the mandate of protecting wheat from bird invasion,
With a well built catapult in my hands I would tirelessly guard our shamba from the eyes of the brown weaver bird,
Bush pigeons, hornbills and jungle rodents would vandalize the whole harvest in a day if not we’ll guarded,

Keeping watch on more than one acre of a land was a real hustle, sometimes I would create scarecrows and place them at the corner of the farm,
By this time my younger siblings were left at home to play all the games they could ever imagine,
Chasing after each other shouting at the top of their voices, playing hide and seek in the bushes nearby,
How I envied them, before leaving for work mama would cook mouth watering meals for them, while they were still sleeping,
Life was easy on them, unlike me, things were getting tougher and tougher as I grew older, but I realised that’s how life is,

I would hang a small calabash of cold water on my shoulders, a sling on my left hand and leave home to protect my father’s territory from invaders,
The sun would strike hard at noon, leaving everyone desperate for a cup of cold water, all animals would hide under giant leafy trees,
Strong winds would wipe through the starving face of land, only the strongest would survive,
I would leave at dusk, after a long tiresome day in the field alone, but with a ray of hope that the sun shall rise again tomorrow, and it’s going to be a better day!

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