It was approaching late evening, the time when its neither bright nor dark, the kind of weather and tempting time that set the mood for the evening chase. It kind of brought blind, false confidence and courage to the boys, to approach the girls and throw some words. There, by the red protruding anthill, lay the small meandering village footpath. The kind you would hardly bypass without some form of body contact with another on the same road.
While the moon would be young, you could hear some echoeing songs in the valley, some boys praising thier herd. Some drums would be soundedly heard announcing the looming feast. Many a time, some marriege or cultural do. All the same, we begun to excitedly anticipate, the show of a village dance.
The same path led to Karyeza valley, that hosted the village sacred well. All boys and girls, at times some adult women fetched the evening water, sharing bold stories untold.The laughters and giggles sent sharp melodies beneath our pantless shorts.
It is true and just that some boys wore nothing but strings dangling between thier fronts and hinds. These albiet compansated for courage, the rare courage to talk to the girls. We sat, waiting, hiding behind the green lush, and mounds of soils to chance on some unaccompaned girls. Lips twitching, rehearsing some words, hands trambling, expecting some warmth. Then the youthful goatee smell sent waves down the spine. Every second took a breath out of us.
They knew some boys, hid somewhere on the way, in the thickets of the valley.Some talked on top of thier voices to attract or ellicit some attention from elusive boys.
The game was fun, albeit not funny especially when they broke the pots. How could we break the pots yet we needed the water? Yes, water to survive beyond quenching the evening thirst.
Some girls like Natu were funny and confusing as they enlisted some dogs, kakwisi’s , the dogs with long mouth to jeolously clear their way. The dogs were loyal, as they ditched thier teeth and pulled your skin, upon any scuffle with the girls.
First was to befriend these fellocious hounds, then proceed to the girls. It meant several courtships, both to the dog and the girls. We created some games, to play with the hounds to avoid later wounds. If you played well, then you would avoid some bigger wounds with the girls.
Then the evening swiftly came, for the games to begin. The girls arrived. The boys hid. The dogs could not bark. It was dark. Silence sent everybody baserk. The girl with beads begun to cry for loosing her waist beads, to Kafiti the Village Wag. Would she still be innocent? Innocense is the word we worded off, after all.
Then the dogs begun to bark at the back of this ear splitting silence. Then the senior women came and upon that ritual they decreed. No fetching water in the dark. Only the senior women, yes only the senior women were to fetch water when it is dark. We all disembarked, albeit it was dark.
ON THE PULPIT