The Rain that never Was

They say, you will never know,

The person is naked,

Untill the tide settles down…

Yestarday, at around 6 am,

I heard sharp, ear deafening shrills,

Unheard of before,

Coming from the Southern part ,

Of my neighbourhood,

That is usually silent,

Save their cranky cracking door..

Reminding me, of raining cats and dogs,

When we dodged school,

Because of rains and fog,

Down in Karyeeza Valley..

The valleys would be full..

We swam in the ponds..

Then there was this ear-splitting clap of thunder,

Under this Mvule tree,

For which i knelt, did a sign of Cross,

And waited for the heavens to explode..

The Jambula tree stood tall

Silent and defiant,

I almost fainted…

Pwa pwa pwaaaaa!,

Like Naduli,

I knotted my shoes and heaved on,

For the morning walk..

Praying for heavens to intercede..

The neigbour will always have a way,

Of celebrating thier thing,

Like screaming for no reason,

Or roasting fatty meat before lunch,

Or playing loud music before church,

And perhaps, making the child cry,

At six,

So you get,

Out of your sleep,

And scream!

Like Kafiti, the Village Wag

The Rain that never was….