LONGING FOR THE FLOODS

LONGING FOR THE FLOODS

They call me the man from Kano,
They praise my reputation world over,
Like an adage they repeat,
Jakano tek, to tar, to otimo leche,
I take it not as an insult,
I see it as an accolade,
I wear it with pride and wear it as my breast plate,
My navigation pole is long and firm,
It's not my fault,
Blame it on the adaptation,
My adaptation to the floods,
My legs are slim, long and firm,
My height is awesome,
Slightly above average,
Don't blame it on me,
Blame nature, nature that gave height to me,
Height good enough for the flooded rice pads.
I am a giant yet gentle,
Call me a gentle giant,
I am thirsty now, thirsty for love,
Thirsty for the floods,
My wading Kano pole is almost cracking
and bending,
The cracks widening,
becoming large enough to hide the old five shilling coin,
Large enough to trip a tiny damsels foot and cause a sprain,
The cracks of the anywang' (black cotton clay soil)
of Kano plains on a hot afternoon sun are incurable,
thanks to the hot sun and dryness.
Only the floods of the mighty river
nyando can seal the cracks now,
But am told River Nzoia would do a much better job,
So my pole needs a remedy,
A remedy of strong luhya love,
For only waters from a specific
Western river can seal these cracks.
This pole needs deeping, the floods.
Oh may the floods come again,
May they come and seal these wide cracks
on this black cotton soil,
May the floods come again and make the ignorant
understand what we mean when we say,
Jakano tek, to tar, to otimo leche.
I don't do deep sea diving,
that is for coastarians,
Some muddy floody wading
gives me the adrenaline and the dull Kano spark and glow.
May it rain, may the floods come again,
 from the Western mountains.
I need me some deep luhya love.

*Jakano: Man from Kano
*Tek: Is strong or hardened
*To tar: and with a cracked dry skin
*To otimo leche: And is full of veins

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