MUNENE A MUTWIRI

As a young boy growing up on the slopes of Mt. Kenya, I always looked forward to when my dad would come home for his leave. One of the sweetest memories I have of him is when I asked him if he would bring me fish when he comes back from Naivasha where he worked. Four months later, to my amusement, he arrived on a cold chilly evening with his backpack and fresh fish hooked on a string. This was significant because then, in the early 2000s, mobile phones were rare and I had not been in touch with him. Though my mother boiled the fish in water and it turned out to be “ Mashakura ” (boiling up all the food ingredients together) as she had never cooked fish before, I knew I was always on my dad's mind and that he loved me dearly. But lately, things have taken a different turn And now, he has not spoken to me for a whole month. We argued the last time we talked, and said some nasty things too. Now I’m sad and angry. Sad because he has stayed away too long and...

What l miss most is writing. The last few months have been one hell of a rollercoaster. l have experienced soo much but still l have had so less time to write. Maybe I'm back maybe not yet.