A Day in the Life of a Nomad

4.00 a.m

Cow-bells outside

An occasional howl

Everything is peaceful

The village is calm and sleepy

5 a.m

Mothers milking cows at cow-sheds

The low of cows

Life is catching up

The village is waking up

7 a.m

Basking in the sun, taking tea

Counting cows and seeing them off

These cows needs to be rid of ticks

Time they were taken for cattle dip

9 a.m

Busy brushing teeth with kamsityan

Singing songs of my bull

The cows are grazing

It is me, my cows and my world

I am all peaceful

10 a.m

Gathered at baraza

Chief has a message

From serikali

Half asleep, resting my head on ng’achar

Looks like I will spend the whole day here

“Supay Kokwo,” Kirwokin greets

“Mmmmh,” we respond

“Bad news people, you stole from Turkana

It is in K.B.C and everywhere

I am in hot soup”

Age-old animosity

Tired culture

Spoilt image

Time folks went to school

Stopped this polygamy circus

Changed from nomadism to “somadism”

It is crazy!

1 p.m

Still half-awake, half-asleep under oron tree

Fellow old man is telling me how he first tasted rice

At the D.C’s compound

Then we hear a case of stolen donkey

Most complicated case

We listen on and on and on

5 a.m

I sprint from the baraza

Cut through thorn trees and shrubs

To go look for my cows

I pass through the market-place to buy tobacco

To keep the nostrils of an old man busy

Then I drive my cows home

Whistling and singing my bull songs

7 p.m

Seated at the aperit

With fellow old men

Fire lit to scare away witches

And to keep the stomach of old men

Warm and cared-for

We keep our guns at the ready

And sleep in the cold

Lorot Son of the Hills’ Notes

Kamsityan- A traditional toothbrush from a tree branch mostly from select trees.

Baraza- a Public gathering where information to the community is disseminated; a Kiswahili word.

Serikali- Kiswahili word for government.

Ng’achar-A Pokot traditional stool.

Supay kokwo- A form of Pokot greeting especially when addressing a large gathering of people.

Kirwokin- Pokot name for a chief.

Oron- a Tarmarind tree, most Pokot gatherings in Kacheliba are done under this tree.

Aperit- A resting place for Pokot men outside in the compound where fire is lit and from which they keep watch of their cows.

Serious Grass Business

(Prompt: Poets United Thursday Think Tank #59 Grass )

Let me wear camel-skin pair of shoes

Walk the walk of a herdsman

With far-flung clouds teasing above him

And the mist of hope lost

In a sweltering heat

What will I feel?

If I had an AK-47 on my back

A dozen arrows and the right instinct

Pray, from what will they protect me from

Unless I shot at the heaven’s tap?

He will walk on and on, that herdsman

To the point of listening to his footsteps

And after many days

Behold, he will lead his cows

To a no-man’s-land

Where one minute egrets

Abound and the next vultures prey

Life and death

For many months

This will go on

This little hobby of looking for grass.

C) Lorot Salem 2011

My Grandma and I

We sit at night with my grandma

A glowing tin-lamp

She a happy old folk

And I her grandson

“Please be calling me,” she says,

“Because you make my night’s sleep so happy and easy”

She finds joy in small things

She tells me to read hard

So that she boasts to others of having “officers”

She knows M-PESA

Tells me how she “signed” beside her name

Yet granny never went to school

She notices that I have added some weight

Tells me, “Grandson, Nairobi has kept you well”

Her wish is that when Tororot calls her

They will count her grandchildren and great grandchildren

She has the figures now and keeps adding them

From her voice, she would be happier if they were more

“Read hard grandson,” she tells me,

“the world nowadays feeds those who have gone to school”

Then I show her four books

I tell her “All these are in my head—all of them”

She looks at them bewildered

“All these, grandson? Not a small fight, this!”

Grandma never dreams of big things

She wants a new mattress and a blanket

And may be a lesso

She wants to be visited by all her grandchildren

Like her neighbour’s grandchildren

She wants a new iron roof over her head

This will make her happy, she says

I give her 200 shillings

She breaks into a dance

Spits into my hands, says prayers to me

Tells me, “Let my saliva smoothen your paths

Whatever is dry, let it be wet and soft”

Grandma sings out

Then stops and says, “Grandson, I hope I will be

There to see you eat at the shade”

“Get your first salary,” She foresees, “then bring it to me

I will bless you, your granary will never be empty”

Then as sleep crept upon her

I walked her to her hut

In the dark night, Grandma and I walked,

Side by side, with a phone lighting her way

It was about to rain

And as she stepped into her hut

I stood there, smiling

Consumed in her “halo” presence

“I love you grandma,” I whispered

The night carried away those words

It felt so good, it felt so nice

C) Lorot Salem 2011

Lorot Son of the Hills’ Notes

I actually wrote this poem on 1^st August 2011, a day after a wonderful night spent with my grandmother. That night will be etched in my memory. I particularly remember her wonderful stories. She said that she had been sent some money through M-PESA, a local money transfer facility in Kenya. It is a requirement that the recipient signs beside ones name. Now, grandmother ( she has never seen the inside of a class), gets hold of the pen and demonstrates how she signs her signature in the fashion of how the educated do. Funny Koko.