Chapter Six

After waiting so long for doom, it finally arrives. The man Ole Kimetto lands in all the glamour of a man who was too plump to climb a small hill, all huffing and puffing. I am almost tempted to laugh as he flexes his jaws in the characteristic way he does, the four grains in his mouth dancing in unison.

“You are left with this animals and you wander off to God knows where, do you know how much damage you’ve caused me?” I know of course the cows have done nothing, it’s just the vile hatred he has for me, maybe because I have worn an underwear while still young, a feat he hasn’t been able to accomplish even in his old age. Kiprotich told me that he still wears the ‘long-sleeved’ boxers, trousers that have become too short to be seen in or those that he had cut off at the knees to increase their numeracy.

A slap lands on me for effect and he leaves after direly warning me that he was going to tell it all to my parents. This was what I was afraid of because telling my mother was equivalent to courting death, or even the ICU. Being young is a good thing and that is exactly what I’ll manipulate. I had the pleasure of sitting with my mother in the kitchen three days ago and overheard their conversation on how this man owed them some money from the three bags of maize they had sold him. He was yet to pay for one.

“Uhm sir, my mama was asking about the ‘report’, for that was the polite way to call money, or so we were taught.

I saw the sudden change in countenance and I knew I had nailed the point.

“Hehe, (his uneasy laughter), I am going to see her now” and off he left. Who doesn’t know that he isn’t going there? The ole nigger never pays his debts. That simply and I am off the hook. The cows are almost having their fill. I lie down on the lush pastures and watch the clouds lazing across the sky. I turn around and unstrap the radio. Cloud watching combined with static makes for the best relaxation. It is one of my lucky days. I can hear some sound from the distant, deep within the shhhh… and I cock my ears to listen to the words but the language is alien to me. I turn my attention to the sky once again and my mind drifts off. There are lots of stuff to think about but all of them are jumbled and I don’t know what to consider first, then all of a sudden it comes. The day I first saw my father crying. That was something alien for I had heard and even known since childhood that a man wasn’t supposed to cry. I honestly hated my father that day. My friends taunted me for quite a while, which pretty much explains why Kiprotich has a mark right below his eye and why they respect me today. It was during my grandma’s funeral.