Nakisanze Segawa’s The Triangle

#New African Reads

The Triangle 

b29edce1ad816c9c735d6147eeaea2cf783d1b62A gripping tale of intrigue and war in precolonial Africa. Two young people — Kalinda, a page in the court of the King of Buganda; and Nagawa, one of the king’s beautiful young wives — are swept up in conflict as missionaries, rival tribes and soldiers of fortune vie for power in what is now Uganda.

It is a time of upheaval in Buganda, an African kingdom on the verge of losing its independence. Anglican and Catholic missionaries are rapidly converting people to Christianity, in the process stirring conflict with their kinsmen who have embraced Islam. Three main characters – Nagawa, a young but unhappy bride to the king; Kalinda, a servant in the royal courts; and Reverend Clement, a Scottish missionary, are swept up in forces that will change their lives and reshape the future of their nation.

Thoughts:

Just got a message in my inbox about this book.  Unhappy Bride to a king, A servant in the Royal Courts, and Conflict in  the village….yeah, sign me up.  Looking forward to jumping into this gem in the coming days. Meanwhile, get your own copy here:

Amazon

Smashwords

Life on the Fast Track – 10

Track 10 – You showed up when I was having a Hard Day…my heart moved

Terry found Danny making breakfast while he fed the white cat milk.  She paused at the entrance into the kitchen and let out a whistle.

“Well, well, you look quite at home, my dear big brother.”

“Do you want eggs or not?” Danny asked, sparing her a short glance.

“I just had waffles with Jimmy,” Terry said, looking around the neat kitchen.  “Looks like you’re moving in.”

“I wish,” Danny said, placing his eggs on a plate.  Picking up his coffee, he leaned on the counter and studied his flamboyant sister.  Her hair was in a ponytail today.  As usual, she looked beautiful in jeans and a dress top thing that should be illegal.  She was too comfortable in her own skin.

Terry owned a clothing boutique in the city.  She sold clothes and offered personal styling to well-off clients.  Her friendly personality afforded her a long list of happy clients, but her working hours were erratic.  He wished she had a steady schedule.

“Your friend is impossible,” Danny said.  “What’s wrong with the cat?”

“She’s getting shots,” Terry said, stroking Min’s fur.  “Otherwise she’d be popping kittens every three or four months.  I’m glad you two got together.”

“I’m not sure Jazz is happy about it,” Danny said, sipping his coffee.  “Enough about that, aaron-burden-185993I want you to keep away from Adrian Anderson.”

“Oh come on now,” Terry scowled.  “Your big brotherly concerns are so tiresome—

“Anderson’s a thief,” Danny interrupted, spooning eggs into his mouth.  “He’s going to get our business and races in trouble if we keep him around.”

“How do you know this?” Terry asked, staring at her brother.

“Nic Mugera.”

“Nic,” Terry gaped.  “Since when do you take anything he says at face value?”

“Since Anderson became a thief,” Danny answered.  “You realize we don’t need that kind of trouble, right?”

“Aish, Danny,” Terry cursed, moving to find a cup so that she could pour herself coffee.  “Anderson has people in my client list.  I have five orders right now with them.  If I refuse, can you imagine the kind of losses I will make?”

“I’ll find new clients for you,” Danny said.  “Come on Sis, being round Anderson is not an option.  Your safety comes first.”

Terry shook her head.  “How can I wake up one morning and decide to ignore five major clients?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Danny said.  “Whatever orders you have, fill them, then don’t take anymore from anyone associated with Anderson.”

“Is this an order?” Terry asked.  “It’s not so easily done, you know.”

“You’ll manage,” Danny said.  “I’ll have Jimmy send someone from the garage to keep an eye on you.  I’m serious about this, Terry.”

Terry shook her head.  “I worry about you, Danny.”

“I’m doing just fine.  I’ll be a thousand times better if you do what your big brother tells you.”  Placing his mug of coffee in the sink, he looked around the kitchen.  “So, where’s the carrier for the cat?  I’m not carrying her with my hands.”

“What?” Terry asked in surprise.  When Danny gave her a look, she pointed to a store room tucked into the corner of the kitchen.

“I’ll take the cat to the vet,” Danny said, coming back from the store room holding a black pet carrier.  “You go arrange your business.”

“Today?” Terry asked.

“Yes, today,” Danny scowled at her.  He picked up Min and placed her in the carrier.  “Give me the address to the vets, and go handle your business, Terry.  Sawa?”

Terry sighed, there was no winning with Danny when he got this way.

“Fine.”

***

“You’re late,” Jasmine said, trying to keep her temper calm.  She pressed her cellphone to her ear.  “Do you understand that sets us back a few hours?  Clients wataka mali yao, and we’re making their lives a living hell.  Tell me, how can you help me?”

Jasmine strode out of the building and started walking around to the docking area in the back.  A line of four trucks stood, men in the back of the warehouse offloading the contents in each truck.  She needed one more, and their most demanding client would receive his property in the morning.

“I’m sorry, Madam,” the truck driver on the other end of the call said.  “We’re stuck in traffic.  When we break free, we’ll be there in an hour.”

“I hope so,” Jasmine warned.  “I don’t like lies.  If you think the situation is not going to improve, be straight with me, Banda.  Don’t make it worse.”

She ended the call, and stopped for a moment to take in a deep breath.  This job was killing her today.  Her head was starting to throb.  Glancing at her cellphone, she discovered that it was passed lunch.

Three o’clock already, where did the time go?

Leaning on the wall, she closed her eyes and sighed.  Opening her eyes, a second later, she stared in surprise at the sight of the black Mazda parked a few feet away.  Leaning on the driver’s side door was Danny, watching her.

She couldn’t explain why her heart sped up in joy.  Her mood, instantly, revitalized.  Smiling to herself, she started toward him.  When she was standing a step away from him, she said,

“Hey.”

He looked good in blue jeans and a black t-shirt, she was tempted to kiss his cheek.

“Hey yourself,” Danny said, opening his arms.

She walked right into them without much thought and allowed him to hold her in a tight hug.  He didn’t talk, just held her in silence.  After a moment, she pulled back and studied him.

“Did you miss me?” Jasmine asked.

“Very much,” Danny said, pressing a kiss on her cheek.  “I didn’t like how we left it this morning.”

“Neither did I,” jasmine said, meeting his gaze.  “How has your day been?”

“Hmm…” Danny looked deep in thought, then he winked at her.  “I took your cat to the vet to get her shots.”

“You did,” Jasmine smiled.  “Danny, you surprise me.”

“I know,” Danny said, his gaze on her lips.  “I like surprising you.”

She rested her forehead on his shoulder.

“I gotta go back to work.”

“I know that too,” Danny said, not having missed the trucks unloading in the back of the warehouse.  “Have you eaten?”

“I will, later,” Jasmine said, her phone buzzing.  She pulled away, one glance at the caller’s name and she squeezed his arm.  “I gotta answer this.”

“Alright,” Danny turned and reached into his car.  Pulling out a brown bag from the Passion Restaurant, he handed it to her.  “I also saw my dad today.  He sent me with this.  Make sure you eat it.”

Jasmine stared at the bag in shock.  Apart from Terry, no one ever cared enough to come to see her at work.  No one ever brought her lunch…taking the bag, she smiled and pressed a fist to her mouth.

“Jazz?” Danny asked.

She shook her head.

“Thanks,” she said, pressing a kiss on his jaw.  She answered her phone in the next minute and hurried off.

***

Danny grinned, watching Jasmine hurry away, her heels clicking on the pavement.  It tickled him how freaked out she had been by his bringing her lunch.  His task accomplished, he slid into the driver’s seat and watched her for a moment longer.  Her work annoyed him, he didn’t like to see her stressed.

If he mentioned it though, she’d only ignore him.  Headstrong women, he thought.

Driving off, he smiled at the little he’d done today win her over.  It was a step forward.

***

To be continued….Thanks for reading!

←Previous Track

A/N: In case you’re reading this for the first time, this is an ongoing story, with a few chapters in it.  I’ll work on consolidating in one page very soon, so that it’s easier to find.

Blog Feature – Child of Destiny

This week, The E.i.N blog takes a break from writing, and goes on a Nairobi Fictionspiration Trip.  Sharing stories from fellow writers (bloggers) from my area code (254).

Thursdays, the eve before Friday, like the calm day before the storm.  Of course, our blog feature is anything but Calm.   A. Musawale over at Child of Destiny, loves shaking your life up.  She keeps it real, and pushes your boundaries whether you want it or not.

Her story ‘Rain-check on the Last Dance’ is an awesome take on the best Rihanna/Lupita movie they’ll-never-make-but-we-wish-they-did.

Rain-Check on the Last Dance

Rihanna is walking slowly, smoking a blunt lost in thought. She’s just used up the last of her savings from the last job she had. Since President Trump took over the country it’s been hard for an undocumented immigrant from Haiti to find work. She couldn’t go home. There was nothing there for her. All her family died in the earthquake. She can’t face her own country. If she’s gonna die, she’d rather do it here, in New York.

She hears a sound behind her and looks back, hand on the switchblade she keeps strapped to her thigh. She hears a scream, high pitched, scared but angry too. It’s coming from the other end of the alley and she creeps cautiously forward to peer into the pitch dark.
There is a group of people massed together from what she can see. They seem to be agitated, moving around and struggling.
“Leave me alone you bastards!” a female voice screams from the thick of the group of people and Rihanna can’t help herself. She steps forward. Coming closer, she can see that it’s a group of five men, and one girl.
Three guesses what they’re trying to do to her.
Rihanna fishes out the 9mm she keeps in her bra and points it in the air.
“Leave her alone!” she shouted and let off a shot.
The cowardly men took off, leaving a small shape huddled on the floor. Rihanna stared at her.
“You okay?” she asked taking a step back.
The girl looked up at her with the most luminous big eyes Rihanna had ever seen, “I’m fine.” She said, “Thank you.”
Rihanna reversed direction stepping forward and reaching her hand down, “I’m Rihanna” she said.
“Lupita” the girl replied.
“Pleasure” Rihanna said helping her to her feet.
“Yeah, very glad to meet you as well.”
Eventually the girls exchange stories; Lupita tells Rihanna about getting thrown out of home when her mother walked in on her passionately kissing her best friend…Amanda. Rihanna tells Lupita about stowing away on a red cross boat after the earthquake in Haiti and ending up in New Orleans. How she’d come to New York for a job but once Trump took over, the owner had tried to blackmail her into having sex with him in return for not reporting her to the authorities.
They live together, survive together; coming up with more and more creative ways to make money. As they manage to stop living from hand to mouth, they move up from petty theft, to breaking and entering, to scam artistes. Lupita is a whiz with a computer and Rihanna can talk anyone into anything. They make a fantastic team.
As their hit list gets bigger and bigger and several big shots are affected, a task force is formed to catch them because how dare the poor rob the rich. One of their targets, Anders McCaulicolkin, turns out to be a police plant. He was sent to entrap them.
Rihanna was really excited about this mark because unlike their average idiot, this one was bloody good lookin’. She approaches him at a party, gets his number and they begin the dance of seduction and manipulation. Lupita is inexplicably hostile to this guy. She doesn’t like how much Rihanna is enjoying the job. Rihanna tries to find out what’s bugging her partner but she won’t say. Lupita channels her feelings into finding out more background on Anders and just after rihanna finishes clearing his account out and transferring the money to their holding account in the Caribbean island of Barbados…Lupita discovers that he’s a plant.
She frantically tries to get hold of Rihanna but she’s already left for the rendezvous point. If the money is tagged like Lupita suspects it is, it means one of their accounts is blown, and Rihanna is exposed.
Lupita always stays in the background but she breaks her cover to get to Rihanna before the cops do.
“Lupita this isn’t the plan!” Rihanna tries to exclaim as she follows Lupita at a dead run through the maze of streets she’s leading her through.
“Yeah well…” Lupita said, “If they caught you…”
“If they caught me what Lupita? We would follow the protocol” Rihanna complained.
“I couldn’t let that happen” Lupita breathed as she rounded the corner to the garage which housed one of their cars.
“Why not Lupita?” Rihanna demanded getting in her face, “At least one of us coulda gotten away cle-”
Her words were stopped by Lupita kissing her, very hard. The darker girl moved back.
“I can’t live without you Rihanna. Better to die together than-”
“Rihanna covered her lips with her hand before she could say it, “Don’t even think it” she said her heart pounding, “Let’s go.”
They get in the car and drive. But the police find them and chase them over three states. Eventually they get to Texas and drive with everything they have, heading for the border. The police cut them off. They veer off and find themselves over the canyon with Trump’s border wall dividing the river beneath into Mexico and USA.
Lupita and Rihanna look at each other, breathing hard.
Rihanna reaches for Lupita’s hand. She takes it. Rihanna’s foot bears down on the accelerator as the cops array behind them and they drive off the cliff.
Thoughts:
Ooh, I love me a good Girls gone Wild story.  Survivors with a strong sisterhood, maybe more, and mad gangster attitude, yeah, I would also watch this movie.  Why haven’t they made it yet, again? Chicks before bros! Yeah!
Yeah, It put a smile on my face, that wouldn’t Quit!

Blog Feature – Jagombaka

This week, The E.i.N blog takes a break from writing, and goes on a Nairobi Fictionspiration Trip.  Sharing stories from fellow writers (bloggers) from my area code (254).

Our Blog Feature today is Exciting.  I love this blog, and the look and the feel of it.  Jagomboka, written by Awino Lesley.  And in her own words, she is:

 “I am a simple listener, writing to you the stories from the true Jagombaka. I fear she sees too much, but the stories must be told. They hold our souls together, and therefore, must be told or else…”

Read one of her stories “Watching Wonder” below:

Watching Wonder

A lone female sits in one of the available benches in Nairobi. The day has yet to turn from where it sleeps in preparation for its final dream. She is young, a few months shy of 24, and yet, looking into her eyes, you get the feeling that she has lived more years than you. A large furry coat is all you see keeping her covered, besides the heeled black boots.  What you see of her skin is smooth and chocolate coloured. Her hair is dark, pure and untouched by the unnatural element of cosmetics. You think about going to her, but you stop yourself mid stride. She does not give  any indication that she has noticed your presence.

She looks up to the dark sky as if searching for something. Something you fail to grasp, because you hear her chuckle to herself. There is a look of wonder on her face, pure and unadulterated. Somehow, she has managed to find wonder in the night sky, even as the bright lights of still open bars dull its brilliance. Her gaze remains unbroken even as the colours begin to adjust. As night’s shift ended, it left in its wake a trickle of people milling about in a bid to reach their jobs, businesses, and in some cases, homes.

Her eyes change focus, to the fast and faster moving waters of humanity. She reads them all as they walk past. To them, she is invisible. To her, they seem to be all the same, all running around like headless chicken. From the suits, to the dresses, to the tattered old clothes worn by the still sleeping chokoras. Nothing matters to them save their own little worries, and perhaps the notion that they care for others. But even then, it is rare to find those that truly love, whose hearts understand the magnitude of that emotion.

Every now again, there is a ripple caused, as someone passes by whose heart is true and continues to feel love. She smiles, knowing that there may be hope yet for the future of this species. And then comes one of them for whom she searches. One of them whose very presence alters whomever they pass for the better. He is self assured and, every once in awhile, busts out a small smile as he moves. There is something tangibly positive about him… He is compelling in his own walk, with neither a word nor sound needed. You get the feeling he has the power to do anything he sets his mind to, and he does so often. She turns to you.

“What do you think? Are you the same?”

She pauses.

“I bet you are…you just don’t know it yet.”

She watches him for a few seconds, gets up, stretches and follows him. Two steps in, she disintegrates into flecks of gold dust and becomes a part of him. You sense a subtle change… and you know he has just become the best and most powerful version of himself.

A voice softly whispers in your ear.

“I’ll come to you once you decide you are ready.”

Thoughts:

I love the description of the city in this story.  How intense the masses of people can be walking along those streets.  I see the one on the bench, watching these masses, seeking for one that stands out, one that shines with strength.  What do you see in this story?  Do you think she would see you as being different too? 

Follow this link to read the Birth of Jagombaka as well. 

Follow her on twitter

Follow her blog

Blog Feature – Salummy

This week, The E.i.N blog takes a break from writing, and goes on a Nairobi Fictionspiration Trip.  I will share stories from fellow writers from my area code (254).

Our Blog Feature today belongs to Salummy

The Love Story of the Sun and Moon

Did you know?

Did you hear?

Were you told?

about the love story of the sun and the moon,

and how the sun died each night just to let the moon breathe.

What has he done to prove his love?

or were those endless nights all enough?

talking about a future that he would work on and waking up to booze just like any other time?

Did he prove how much he loved your pretty soul and that never again would he allow you to have your unborns killed?

Did he ever stop you from aborting or even decline to be the father?

What has he offered that we can compare to the sun?

a bouquet of flowers?

a glass of champagne?

or were you just a trophy girl that he used to magnify his earnings?

Did he tell you not to answer Catherine’s call and she is just a secretary?

or did he remind you of the sunset resort where he was busy ogling other ladies in their bikinis?

What does he remind you of?

of endless love or of being a concubine?

I tell you, I will remind you once again

of the story of the sun and the moon.

How the beauty of the moon was the pride of the sun,

and how much the stars shied away each night admiring their love…

***

Thoughts:

This poem reminds me of the song Hijo de La Luna.  Like a folktale, using the moon, this poem draws on the sun and the moon.  Painting a love, that is surely suffocating, as the Sun can only shine when the moon sleeps.  The moon can only shine when the Sun disappears. Such a thought-provoking poem.

***

Salummy is also the author of A Painted Inspiration from the Palm-Fringed Beaches.  A collection of inspiring and life-changing quotes that have been compiled in a style that is simple and compelling.

Buy this book here:

Smashwords

Amazon

Follow her on Instagram.

 

The Enchanting Violinist – 3

Hiring the Violinist who sells Weaves in Kinoo.

Phillip clutched his keys, his gaze taking in the quaint town Nyambura had chosen to settle in.  Kinoo was small, out of the city, but still close enough to major hospitals and the hustle and flow.  Having a major highway close was a plus.  Nyambura’s shop was thriving.

She stepped out of the shop, drawing his attention.  She always looked healthy and beautiful.  He smiled.  Her casual style far removed from the ultra modern women he met daily.  No heels for Nyams, she preferred white rubber shoes.  Comfort ruled her world.  Her well-worn jeans hugged her hips to perfection, the white shirt she wore covered her curves but the mystery intrigued him.

Meeting her frowning gaze, Phillip smiled.

“What brings you here?” Nyambura asked, with a flustered smile.

“How are you?” Phillip asked, closing the distance Nyambura kept between them.  “You don’t call or answer messages.”

“Phillip,” Nyambura started.

“I told you, think of me as your friend.”

“Yes,”  Nyambura sighed.  “I know you did.  I’m sorry.  I’ve been busy with the shop and practice.”

Phillip chuckled.

“Excuses, Nyams,” He shook his head.  “I’m not asking for anything else but friendship.”

“Yeah?” Nyambura leaned on the wall behind her.  Her gaze on his car.  “Why don’t you tell me why you came today?”

Nyambura was an escapist.  She continued to avoid his attempts to get close.  Shutting him down without effort, Phillip sighed.

“I have a gig for you,” Phillip said.  “You interested?”

“What kind of gig?” Nyambura asked, finally meeting his gaze, her interest peaked.

Phillip hid a smile and folded his arms against his chest.

“My company has a formal party tomorrow evening.  The main act cancelled.  They’re stuck in Kampala doing another performance.  We have important investors in town, the kind who need classy parties.”

Nyambura frowned.  “How much?”

“Twenty thousand,” Phillip said.  “Formal dress, our guests expect a real authentic show.”

“Twenty-five,” Nyambura countered, forever the business woman.

“Come on, Nyams,” Phillip said.

“It’s short notice, Phillip,” Nyambura said.  “If I need to convince the guys to give up stuff they are doing for cash, I need a good payout.”

Phillip calculated their budget.  The act that cancelled was to be paid thirty thousand for the night, and an early breakfast call.  Their popularity dictated their price.  Nyams and her quartet were classy, but unknown.  Oh well, Phillip decided the payout was well-deserved.  He’d get flack for it from the accountant, but—

“Fine, Twenty-five,” Phillip said.

Nyambura gifted him with her first smile and he stared.  She rarely smiled.  Phillip could count the number of times he’d seen her do it.  Six times, to be exact.  This woman with her hard shell and brown eyes that had seen too much.  She intrigued him.

“Thank you,” Nyambura said.  “What time?”

“Can you show up at five-thirty in the evening?  Set up, and make sure everything is working.”

“Sounds good,” she nodded.  “We need a room to keep stuff, and change clothes.”

“No problem,” Phillip smiled.  “Dinner is on us.”

Nyambura nodded, and reached for her cell phone.  She texted her fellow musicians in seconds, and got a reply back just as fast.  Her excitement was hard to miss.  It made him feel as though he’d helped her win the lottery.  Nyambura’s music was important to her.

Phillip stared at his car keys.  He wished Nyambura would ask him if he wanted tea.  He’d scoped out the little shopping center and the tiny hotel across the street was perfect.  Hell, he could eat a mandazi if she asked.  Or even a samosa

If she wanted, he could drive her to the nearest pizza place.  While they ate, they would talk about everything from the weather, to planting maize…the music people were listening to these days…the possibilities were endless.

“Well,” Nyambura said, and he looked up, hopeful.  “Thank you so much for thinking about us.  We won’t disappoint you tomorrow.”

Yes, the let down was swift, fast.  No room for doubt, Phillip sighed.  Nyambura never dared to give him a hope.

He smiled at her, and she held out her hand for a handshake.

Phillip took her slender hand, squeezed it gently, then she let go, and he was left with no choice but to head back to his car.  He shook his head and walked down the steps.

“What happened to all the courage, Phillip?” he murmured under his breath, and opened the driver’s door.  Getting in, he slammed the door closed and sat watching Nyambura enter the shop with a final wave to him.  He’d come to visit her with such fire, ready to make her hear him out.

Still stuck in friend zone, fail, Phillip scoffed.

Jeez, this was getting pathetic.  His mistake though, he kept spouting all the nonsense about friendship.  If he was ever going to get out of there, he had to confess tomorrow night at the party, he decided.  Nyambura was always at her best when she was playing music, so he’d talk to her right when she was flying high from the performance.

Phillip smiled with anticipation and started the car.

****

to be continued…..Thank you for reading ^_^!

Previous Chapters

The Enchanting Violinist – 1

The Enchanting Violinist – 2

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Koya’s Choice

The Hyena’s Marriage – Day 12

Prompt: Three children are sitting on a log near a stream. One of them looks up at the sky and says…

The Hyena’s Marriage

spotted-hyenaThree children sit on a log near a stream eating sweet ripe mangoes from their grandmother’s garden.  Mango juice runs down their chins, none of them stopping to wipe it away, to eager to savor the taste.  The sweet delicious feast oddly exciting, as they had to climb the tree to get the mangoes.

After their grandmother explicitly told them not to climb the tree.

The fact that they had not listened to her, and had then gone to climb that mango tree, with the threat of her finding out, made the mangoes all the more sweeter.

Now, one of them looked up at the sky, and saw an old hawk fly by in a hurry.

“Where do you think Kito is going?” the boy asked.

“To cause trouble no doubt.  Why?” the girl in the middle asked.

The boy wiped his chin on his sleeve and stared at the mangled mango seed in his hand.

“Kito carried a sweet potato vine in his beak.  Where do you suppose he is taking it?”

“You’re seeing things, Munya.  Why would a hawk carry a vine?”

“I don’t know.”  Munya shrugged, licking on the mango juice escaping between his fingers.  “Aren’t you curious, Lena?”

“No.

Munya sighed.  He was the curious one.  Everyone in his home knew it.  He asked too many questions, and got into trouble because of his curiosity.  Once, he asked his mother if being curious was a bad thing, but she’d smiled and said it was the best way to learn.

Oh well, Munya threw the mango seed and stood.  He went to the edge of the stream to wash his hands, otherwise he would be sticky all day.  Besides, their grandmother would take one look at their sticky fingers and know they stole her precious mangoes.

“Lena, Karua, don’t forget to wash your hands,” Munya said.  “Grandmother might really beat us with that cooking stick she waves this time.”

“Yesterday, she wanted to hit me with it when I forgot to close the chicken house,” Lena said with a giggle as she rushed to his side.

Karua moved slower, he was the youngest in the family and often followed Munya and Lena on their adventures.  Munya worried about Karua more than Lena, because Karua was slower.  He didn’t like running as much as Lena did.  Lena was a tomboy, or so their mother said.  Whatever that meant.

“I want to know where Kito was going,” Munya said, looking above the trees near the stream.

The small forest near the stream bordered their family’s farm.  Their mother and grandmother often sent them to collect firewood.  That was how they met Kito, the old hawk that lived deep inside the forest.

“Let’s take Karua home first,” Lena said, watching their youngest brother splash water at the stream.

“That will take too long,” Munya complained.  “Kito moves too fast.  Please, I’ll look out for him.”

“You said that last time, and I ended up falling behind taking care of Karua.”

“Lena, I promise I won’t leave you alone,” Munya said.  To convince her, Munya went to Karua, took his left hand and led him toward the forest.  “See, he’ll walk with me.  Let’s go, Kito is surely going to cause trouble.  I want to know.”

“You’re going to get us in trouble,” Lena complained even as she followed them.

Munya ignored her and with determined footsteps, led them into the forest.  Sunrays from the sun shone in intervals, breaking through the tall, tall trees with leaves that sang when the wind blew.  Soon, Munya noticed they weren’t the only ones in the forest heading in the direction Kito had gone.  Rabbits raced by, each carrying a gift in its mouth.  Monkeys laughed overhead, swinging from tree to tree.  More birds flew by, the great big elephant who sometimes came by the stream for water stomped by.

Each animal carried a small gift, and Munya wondered if he’d been wrong about Kito going to make trouble.  They soon came to a clearing and Munya clutched Karua’s hand tight when he started tripping over a stone.  Lena took Karua’s left hand and together they steadied him.  They looked up to find the animals waiting in a circle in the clearing.

The silence was unusual, even the chattering monkeys sat in silence on the edge of the circle.  Munya glanced above and saw Kito resting on a low branch on the tree next to them.

“Old Kito,” Munya said, his voice in a loud whisper.

“Shh…” Kito answered, not looking at him.

“But…” Munya started only for Kito to fly off his branch to land on Kito’s right shoulder.

“Stop making noise,” Kito said, dropping his sweet potato vine.

Munya caught it before it touched the ground.

“What is going on?  Why have the animals in the forest gathered?” Munya asked, trying to keep his voice low.

“You’ll see,” Kito answered.  “Here it comes.  Look to the sky, my noisy friend.”

Munya and his siblings all looked up in time to see the sunrays dance into the middle of the clearing.  Bright and pretty, they were golden yellow and almost blinding.  Munya gaped when he saw two hyenas walk into the clearing from opposite sides.  They moved slow, and only stopped when they met in the middle of the clearing.

Before Munya could ask what the hyenas were doing staring at each other in the middle of the clearing, a light rain started and all the animals cheered.

“Munya,” Lena said, her tone amazed.  “Look, it is raining and it is sunny at the same time.”

“Yes,” Kito answered, his voice too pleased.  “The Hyenas are getting married.”

Munya smiled in wonder as each animal walked up to the two hyenas in the middle and left an offering close to them.  Munya lifted the sweet potato vine he held, looking at the old hawk.

“Why did you bring a sweet potato vine for the hyenas?”

“So they may have a prosperous and long life together,” Kito answered.

Munya gave the sweet potato vine to the hawk and watched him take it to the new family.  The animals then included them in celebration and Munya and his siblings had a fun and exciting afternoon celebrating the hyena’s marriage.

***

100 days Writing AdventureThis post is part of the East Africa Friday Feature entry.  Still going with the writing challenge.  I went out last week and it started raining while the sun was out and I remembered this story my grandmother used to tell us.

 

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