Life is hard and mysterious:there are days of happiness and sadness.my early childhood life was never easy but I never felt difficulty until I was exposed to the world.I still remember how my parents and all members of my village brew:I thought it was a life style and in some extend I could whisper to myself that when I grow up I want to be a brewer.
I loved the way people trooped into our compound as early as 5:00am asking if 'busaa' kind of brew which was made through fermentation of maize flour and the 'changaa' kind of brew which used sugar,water ,busaa and finally steaming them then collecting the favor;I loved.People could fight when they got drunk and insult one another but I never understood that it was not good.All in all I was happy since my parents had earned some cash.It was good and luxurious life according to my knowledge by then I was five years old.
As I grew up my father started exporting changaa I mean selling them in nearby village and he reached a point where he was warned not to bring them to the people and he resisted.One day while he was in his business he arrived the so call market and he found the people in Baraza and he decided to halt and join the meeting.When the chief was addressing the villages he asked him "did bring the changaa ?as point out his name" and my dad was requested for the answer and "I stood up and answered yes and I asked him I have brought the last one and requested the chief to grant him the last chance to sell the ten litres changaa since my children have no food" my father narrated to us some years later and in return it looked funny to us since we were still young.
I started school when I was six years old that is the year two thousand and three.We could walk a distance of 15 kilometers to school and back for another 15kilometres .We could wake up at 4:00am and my mother had already packed lunch in our dishes 'kasuku' and we could just put on our uniform and carry some cooking oil for oiling our bodies after taking half-bath.Our breakfast used to be 'mahindi karanga' maize that has been fried after soaking over night:it was fovourite meal in savannah.
During heavy rains we could get rained on very well;we loved and whenever it started raining we could Cheer up and laugh ceremoniously.it was our best moments.Heavy rains sometimes could fill up our seasonal rivers and we could risk so long as we could reach home.School day were tiresome and interest and I never had any vision I knew I wanted to be a brewer and attending school was leisure events.Ironically I was among the top pupils in my school and felt like no I don't love reading and it stressed me a lot I wished I could be tailing since my father always prioritize matter education,health and food: I knew my dad will force me to continue schooling and I never wanted.
A times we had no lunch and wild fruits were the only option majorly 'taikemetik,muchukek,tilinyek,tilalyek,tangururik,aryek and many others' in kalenjin language and we could drink water and our stomach were fully sorted.We loved the savannah life and felt privileged in the society.I specifically enjoy that life ,school being to far I could hide go and hide in the shrubs and sisal plantation as I eagerly wait the bell for break hours and lunch hours.I remember one day I went to class after long break that is 11.00am to attend my first class and my class teacher could ask me where I was I could genuinely answer I had not arrived but I was hiding behind the sisal and my class teacher could laugh knowing very clear that he had taken roll calls in the morning and I could get punished and bitten after evening break.But I was cleaver and I could leave for at games break before the bell was rang to release pupils to go home.Somes I could forget and this day I could not evade the punishment and knew my teacher was bad person and ate me.
After my father was given last chance '' I came home and I swear I will never brew again and I concluded that am going to destroy all my drums for brewing and did, your mother thought I was mad and tried to stop be but I never heard" my father narrated "and finally I burned all plastic drum and throw away metallic drums " my father continued to narrate the story.I was like ooh no!! so this brewing came to cease because of dad since they I stopped for a while without brewing and I was wondering what had happened but I never asked and this point I could I ask myself is brewing good or bad? many questions came into my mind since my dream was getting destroyed I almost cried but I assumed.
Somes years later my father got employed in a nearby school as a watchman and we rejoiced and we knew that new dawn as come.This is after he abandoned brewing and decided to be a Christian.My left us in home for the job.We remained with our mother....life started changing slowly by slowly...