Be Sharp Son

My Son, today was another day in your life. It looked shorter or probably longer. As you grow up you will realize something. That your mother was a therapist. She sometimes switched to a professional and a times she was just a mum. I will tell you it was really hard for me sometimes because you make a perfect subject for study. You saw these pieces of wood outside as a heap. We can make something great out of this son. I saw you fighting with the other children over a toy. Making something enjoyable for self is the greatest skill.
Could we probably make this our story telling place? You know Taptuwei was a wonderful woman. I never met her but I was named after her. Son, women in my community had many roles. On your right under the hut sat the woman. She helped women give birth. When I was pregnant with you son, I got that dress there. When you stopped breastfeeding, it stopped fitting me. My breasts shrunk. I do not blame you, I did not have any big ones before either. I loved the dress. You see how a beautiful tree my tummy was? Of course it was a beautiful seed. In that right corner is a Sotet (calabash). We were generous with milk. It was medicinal, we liked our society healthy. We gave anyone who asked for water. We decorated the calabash so nicely. Just below it is Itet(a special stick). We burned it and improved the test of milk with it, it is what is famous as a nandi milk herb. It is the special herb in the mursik. Some have suspected close relation with athletic abilities among our people but I never take myths seriously. I hope someone studies it one day. When you grow up grow some curiosity, the world needs an open mind.
Your daddy is an interesting man my son. Learn from him. The instrument there has a name, he reminds me all the time but I forget. Sometimes you make interesting sounds with it and I like that you do so. Music is food for the soul they say. He is also a worker, keeps several tools. I have put a shovel; there that he uses for his creations. We have made a home, created impressions, we can sit here under the moonlight and dream of worlds beyond. Reach heights with no end.
Colour gives the heart a glow, when we held the pink thread, we sang “round and round”and something sweet came out. It was music and a beautiful stick. We then sang, “kirote ┬ásinendet ak artet olonyo komi boyob tum nebo sambu“This is a kalenjin song for offering. You have to learn to give to mother earth son. We eventually go back to it because we are nature and nature is us.
My baby, learn to work with others, be it humans or machines now that you are in this generation. Conflict is expensive, sometimes it even costs life.
Be Sharp my son

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