I am actually writing this piece from the comfort of my bed.You can’t really blame me, its July, the coldest month of the year. This is the first time in a long time that July has found me home, I am gonna take this moment as a sign and run with it, write about home, the land of hills and valleys, the land of matoke. My motherland.
I grew up in a place where the soil has always been red and sky has always been gay. A place where July also indicates ‘mapera’ and avocado season apart from low degrees and cold mornings. Heck, everything about me screams my tribe, the way I talk the way I walk even the way I handle things. My school friends need to stop telling me that I am kikuyu till I open my mouth ( I hope you see this)
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