Still Sings the Nightbird

Darkness and light

171 D Darkness and light beautiful day welcomed Jugus, Amani and Joe to Nairobi again. They went outdoors and played before their mother awoke. They were exhilarated. After breakfast, they were cycling fast down Manyani Road. They swooped towards the lush green fenced gardens not remembering how hard it would be to ride back up the hills they almost flew over. When Kabi awoke, she heard the energetic chirrup of weavers. From time to time, she could hear other birds’ tunes as if in a big chorus cheering. Next door, a dog barked and a girl shouted, “Tommy sit! Sit Tommy, sit!” This was repeated several times till the dog sat, and continued wagging its tail with joy dragging it on the ground as if it were a broom over the clean brown earth spotted with short and gentle grass. The two houses were separated by a thick kei apple hedge. Now and again Kabi could hear too the sounds of cars whizzing by . The neighbor’s young ones were in full action. One boy burst out singing only one line: “Zaanenaaa, sikuukuuu, kengeleeee….bells of joy are saying something!” That is all Kabi heard as the singer ran across the compound leaving only a trail of the melody disappearing thinly behind him. It would soon be Krisimasi. Kabi was strolling through the fresh flower garden. It was delightful. She wondered at the uniqueness of this place and felt its power liven her up. What really took up her mind was, she thought as she walked towards the gate, the variety and mixture of sounds that one could hear here. It was very unlike the silence on the farm in Kitale. Cars, lorries and trucks driven past, birds singing and children playing. She could hear strong male voices and trills of women’s voices as many continued to walk down Waiyaki Way towards, first Westlands shopping center, and then the city. The people streamed by like an unstoppable torrent of power. They walked to work early A 172 to the Industrial Area factories, ran at times to the other end of the city. In the early afternoon, she walked with the boys. This time things were quite different from the morning. The traffic was almost ceasing. From time to time, they saw someone walking. It was 3 O´clock, the still hour of the day in the city. The tired hour in the countryside. Then the road was free of traffic. A ray of silence seemed to cut through the afternoon, slicing it into two as the sun scurried across the bright sky. Kabi had more time then to enjoy the surroundings. After they passed the well-built houses of the type that her brother lived in, she began to see paper and cloth structures. These were shacks in which many people lived; she at once remembered her parents’ first mud house Uberi. Something she could not explain began to make her feel that she belonged here. She was relaxed and free. But deep inside she was surprised. She realized that a part of her that was still dead with pain was coming to life. She felt it sprout in her again. She knew that life began to grow in her like a yam vine creeper. She felt warm within her. A flyover the poor road connected Lavington to the posh Loresho estate. “Is this where the people who walk to work in the mornings live?” asked Jugus. “Yes,” answered Kabi. “Yet they are always clean and smartly dressed,” She added. As they walked on, they saw a huge lorry on the main road. On the footpath, beside the road, a young boy was pushing a wheelbarrow laden with napier grass. The grass lay on beige sand normally used for construction of concrete houses. Joe saw a little of that sand on the edges of the full wheelbarrow. He looked keenly at the boy and his `lorry´. “Hey, look at that barrow beside the lorry!” said Jugus. While they were taken aback by the difference in size between the two, Amani was staring at the young bare-footed boy who was wearing a 173 torn, loose khaki pair of shorts. His chest was bare. Amani was counting the boy’s ribs. He felt what Kabi often spoke about, tha, hit his heart. Compassion. It was as if the fine strings, cords of the heart were moving and brushing...