Thoughtful Feeds

Hoo........ Hoo.  . . . .Hooo Hoooo Ahoo Ahoo Ahoooo Omusinde wee! Aaah  nothing beats  the early morning chants of traditional circumcision. Well at least if you come from Western Kenya. A good percentage of you guys ( ladies / gents ) won't even sing the chant right, but it's okay, it doesn't really matter simply because the tradition is slowly dying with the advent of modernization. I for one did not go through traditional circumcision. I got cut in a hospital at a tender age of nine. A painful recollection. But a brave one indeed. Maybe I could swank about how nice I was fed. Like a king. With maids by my side gently fanning my well rested body. Feeding me berries like rich arm-less guy. Am obviously kidding. The only change in diet I got was a dose of fries every once in a while. As an African child, fries were like pizza or a burger or whatever white kids fancy. Burgers are amazing. Deliciously layered from bottom to top. It's not a snack but ...

My guy we just hit the jackpot ! This is a story of a young lad called Trevor. Precious to her mother. Her major purpose in life. Like any mammal she loves keeping him close just to be sure he's safe. Every foreign touch worries her to the core; Did she wash her hands?  Breathe away from him not towards him! You are holding him the wrong way you'll hurt him. Extra protective, isn't she? I write it as one among the gifts to commemorate her upcoming birthday for she has been a dear friend to me. We have learnt alot from each other. But I'll have to admit she has been more of a teacher to me than I to her. Before I talk about Trevor. I want to jade you with a silly fable of how I met his mother. (HIMYM)  It was a chilly evening. The trees swayed at the wind's will. The same way worshipers would, with arms stretched and eyes closed. Passionately singing a common hymn. Ni wewe ni wewe Baba, ni wewee!  . . . . Wee hours of the n...