I once heard the moon say,

Every time a soul is wronged, Heaven weeps,

Her words crawled the length of my spine,

I asked, “How can we tell that heaven is weeping?”

The moon smiled at me, and when I looked back at her,

She said, “Look outside Child, don’t you see heaven weeping?”


Rain Drops


water drops on glass
Noah Silliman/Unsplash.com

And like the rain, I poured.

When I look back, I wonder how she bears it all; to bury five children, to lose what you knew would never be your own.

To see the sun, the moon, the spring, summer and fall…

And like the rain, I poured.

When I look back, I see your face among them, souls thriving on keeping up appearances, bodies yearning for redemption, throats liquored up, children lined up, hopes squashed…the same people who made promises and like me, abandoned them to the wind.

Be careful what you tell a child,

More so, what you make a child see…every day.

And like the rain, I poured, my thoughts like drops that hit the earth, gone but not forgotten, splashed but not ignited…these thoughts are like the rain, these feelings are not the rain, they ooze out of me, unashamed, relentless and full of vengeance.

Let it pour.

Let it pour.

Let it pour.

It’s raining

I thought the clouds had a torrent to say,

It seems they really could not sway.

Remember, last week, on Thursday? You were trying to balance some accounts and I was seated across the table, stirring my coffee, acting like it did not matter.

“Just give me a minute, okay?”


You asked for one but took ten minutes.

My anger could not be swayed.

You said, “you’re like rain, if you decide to fall, you fall and I am the fool who forgets to carry an umbrella.”

It is raining now. It is half past seven and I am brewing tea. I wonder, do you know how right you always are?

Do you know how annoying it is to have to like you?

It’s raining. You are probably watching National Geographic so you can tell me all about animals in the wild.

It’s raining.

You’ll need an umbrella for I fear that one of us will be drenched and I have a feeling that it will be worth every drop. 

Probox diaries: Adventures in Kuria

I  woke up at 5:30am leaving my comfortable bed and heading to the bus stop to board a Probox to Kehancha.


Kehancha is a thirty minutes drive from Migori town and can be as comfortable or uncomfortable as can be depending on which seat you occupy in a Probox. After much travel, I believe that sharing the seat with the driver is the most uncomfortable because of the constant need to adjust the gear. The most comfortable has to be the boot  because no one likes to sit there and you can pay half price.
It gets worse if you have to share it with a sack of potatoes, charcoal or cabbages as I learned today.

So, once in Kehancha I visited a couple of schools and engaged some officials in matters regarding the education and health policies and it was quite insightful. I was welcomed to tea and mandazi in one school but had to take a raincheck because I was rushing to another school.
On my way back to Migori, I contemplated making a stop at Masaba but the heavy rains made it impossible. It got worse as we approached Migori with the driver making stops because he did not have a clear view of the road ahead.
I was drenched as I left the car to seek shelter in an hotel called Zam Zam under the guise of taking tea and mandazi.
So, I guess my footwear will strictly be:


As for my writing and reading, I have two novels to read and lots of paper to write on:


But what’s a day well spent and drenched by the heavy rain in Kuria like without a picture?


I’m getting some tea and working on my reports for now, until then my journey and adventures in the rain continue.