Thursday, 10th May of 2018
Today’s post was supposed to be about disappointments.
About “why it is a road full of disappointments”.
By it I meant why the sundry shop of existence is filled with so much wrongs for the deeds we term as right for our paths.
I had planned it since last Friday. I already knew which weird synonyms I would use and I practically had the whole piece placed in my head.
Heck, I even knew what the first paragraph would be, word for word.
I had written it and corrected it so many times that it was perfect for you. Perfect for a copyright sign and my second name following it. For a ©Awuor.
But I have to disappoint myself and my well laid plans for this piece because I went through something today that needs putting down somewhere precious.
Forgive me if this piece lacks any creativity.
So I got to the office today and my very lovely supervisor, ( she asked me to send her the link to this so I have to butter her up), anyway, she told me that I was to go and cover “something that had happened in Solai,”
“What is it?” I asked, oblivious to the fact that I was being too curious when she kinda sorta didn’t want to give me the full details. Or maybe she was just busy on her computer writing something even more phenomenal.
“There’s been a tragedy”
I hadn’t switched on the TV in the morning so I didn’t know about any tragedy, and since I had not heard anything from our morning rumor time with mom, I didn’t think much of it.
Somehow, while still in the company car, (and yes, we have a company car) the word came back to me.
It had a cold demeanor attached to its hip.
Couldn’t be a drought since Kenyan soil has to be the most moisturized layer in the last few weeks.
A fault line maybe. Those seem to be happening a lot lately in the majestic Rift Valley. It had to be another fissure.
I sat there, looking out the window as I collected my thoughts on what I would write on my fissure-article. I was making up headlines in my head by the time we passed the junction to Bahati Girls where my ka-cousin is at boarding and I had actually come up with a few, but none that Madam Jane couldn’t beat. She has a way with words. Like she always has this collection of would-be headlines just in case.
Solai was all brown. Muddy brown, not any pretty-little-brown thang.
I stepped out of the vehicle to be met by the ghastly sight of humongous lorries and these tractors that are usually on roads being constructed.
These yellow ones with a scooper-thingy that is at its head or nose.
The first person I stood next to told me that the dam had broken it’s banks at about 8:00 pm Wednesday night.
The second had heard a grumbling noise from the hill housing the dam and had thought it was the rumbling of thunder.
When the dam broke, and reportedly with a loud bang, they thought lightning had hit a tree or something. That was the logical explanation. A force of nature.
The scene was gruesome.
There was no mercy last night.
Where the ground is supposed to be freshly green was a dull brown of muddy water the equivalent of pancake mix.
Lorry wheels were halfway deep in the muddy mix of everything nature provides.
Spreads of bloody red were visible in numerous areas all around Nyakinyua area. It was devastating.
(Image by my phone of a car washed away from that part in the horizon that is darker above the trees)
The story is already in the news and you have probably seen it, but this was my account. A little bit of the Awuor perspective.
I can’t put everything I witnessed today into words because this is still a weird blog owned by WordPress but managed by a little bracefaced weirdo from the little town of Nakuru. And I want to keep things PG and friendly to give you reason to read my next obviously amazing post.
I have avoided being in my head all day because I don’t want to know what my uncanny gift of a mind will try to conjure up. I don’t want to know what is cooking up in there.
Citizen’s tag line for the story was “Nani wa kulaumiwa Solai” or something of the sort. You know me and that sanifu thing don’t go well.
Here’s a fact for you. There is someone who owns those dams. Yes, there are more. 4 more actually, with the largest running along the main road and is said to be about 5 acres large. They are also not built.
When I heard it was a dam I pictured a Ndakaini kind of thing. These dams are a result of sand, and a couple of rocks dunked unstrategically in the path of a river, blocking it and robbing the residents of Nyakinyua of the source of water during my birthday month. It is saddening that even the media tries to hide the fact that is known throughout like the Gospel.
Here’s what I think despite it all, before I scrutinize the scene in my mind and spoil any inspiring words that I am required to give.
Life’s short. Cherish it. You never know when the grumbling thunder could be more than you thought.
Keep on keeping on. Especially because life is short. Try it all, despite the disappointments. Don’t think that if you fail, then that is the end. The end is the end. Nothing else is.
And Tien, keep that candle burning.
Steady yourself even though you know that you’re falling
Maybe you’re falling but you’re still alive
Ready yourself that’s quite enough of your bawling
Cause you’re bawling but you’ll survive
Loosing is only a sign
It’s only a sign that you really tried.
~Aluna George – What would I change it to