Inside An African Home.

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Once again, the rainy season is here, fumes of a healing land can be seen from a distance,
Before the sun rises from it’s hiding place, mama is already awake, she’s seated on her three-legged stool while milking Kalondu the fresian cow,
The land is still wet and slippery, inside the Boma a herd of goats can be heard bleating, the kids are fighting to suckle for breakfast,
The cows are sleeping together to keep warm, with their bellies intact, the heat party has just started,

With a small wooden radio in his left hand, listening to the early morning bulletin, papa leaves for the market,
Everyone at home is an early bird, sleeping past 6 am is a taboo, actually it’s a formidable sin,
Yams are cooking in an old clay pot that rests on top of three pillars while fire burns underneath, soon, tea will be served in huge mugs,
As hot as it comes from the fireplace, tea is poured in a kettle, everyone is supposed to take a cup of it for a productive day ahead,

The herd is driven away for grazing, but the herder must be careful, remember it’s planting time and some of our neighbour’s plants are all grown,
The forests are never safe when it rains, pythons are out to find soft targets when the mud is still wet,
He must also watch out for any traps set by hunters during the night, to avoid losing a couple of them,
In an African setting, cattle is the definition of a wealthy man, infact it’s the only way to pay dowry,

It is during this time of the year that birds migrate from the northern valley in search of grain,
Weaver birds fly in thousands of groups headed towards the south, where millet is the main crop,
Nature has a way of communicating, farmers are ever keen when these things happen,
When the leaves turn yellow and the trees starts to wither, prepare for a great famine ahead! We’re not prophets, we’re Africans!

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