Author M.I.K.E.T Kasadha

 still being typed

Chapter One

“‘Thoughts are wonders of the soul. When silence sparks a smile or sometimes a laughter at your face; it’s great happiness you will feel inside and inside the soul. That’s really what baleke is, though those against him are near and far; baleke would like them to know that is politeness and solitude are the only immaterial being their at war with but not his being as in what they observe. For the essence of a confused mind isn’t in ignorance alone but also complete brilliancy can paralise the mind in thoughts and deeds. Wisely, i believe man’s problem has been the sting to consider every inferor human insane and himself wise, not knowing that he is twice a fool. A fool to others and a fool to himself. 

So i rarite, if the stars, moon and the dark night appeared once in a century-what a people would gaze all night while driking gins and chucking to them as visitors and also naming and calling themm all breeds and attributes. The earth media would opt for a crazy headline to apprise the masses’ distinguishions. perhaps they would write “A visit from the gods.” May be the sub headline would read “the dialy circular sun in the blue sky is the god, the moon is the goddesses with thier angel children”. this would be done to bring differs to one circle of comprehensive astuteness. Confinedly, a child born at such a time in African myth would be cogitated as a blessing,otherwise, the child would be killed in belif of an omen coming in the world with the baby. hence a sacrife to the gods. but the there wouldn’t be a justified ultimate insight about the gods. to the killers, does a bad omen arive from a clean womb, as we say, a dog gives birth to a dog. Unless the Maama is an omen herself, so would be the baby. And to the other side of the blessed, do the gods desire a demoralised lagish droop’s would result as a sacrifice instead of a purely graced born baby”‘. 

Suddenly Baleke remembered being late. Baleke was supposed to see grand paa at his home but the sun had crossed the centre of its journey from one point of the sky angle. It was the same time that grand paa always stayed at the market merchadising his fish. in the thoughts of humun life, Baleke had forgotten the appointment. Baleke waft on why and why did grand paa call on him. He had never bothered about anything Baleke did for years, whether bad or good. Baleke started the journey to the market; promisely to join grand paa.

‘Paapa! may your blood Kiwanuka escout me to the market?’ Baleke asked Paapa.

Paapa was seated in the open centre of his huts and more close to where Baleke Slept. Paapa always appeared i a pale integument colour of his black pod, that you would believe a disease of modern whiteshness was eating him. In his rattled dirty farmer-like clothes, he lived a quite man below innocence.

‘Where?’ Paapa asked.

‘To the noisy sellers,grand paa called me?’ baleke replied.

‘Alright, Kiwanuka! Kiwanuka! Kiwanuka” Paapa almost shouted a little, while callng the attention of his youngest son.

‘Yes Paa.’Responded, Baleke’s liitle brother.

‘Come and trek with your brother” 

‘Okay Paa, thank you Paapa.’ Said Baleke’s brothe, as he run out from a nother of the huts.

In a goat’s smirking mood, he appeared to smile rapturously like a single dental exposure of a bold bridegroom’s happiness. Short as he was, they hardly discerned any unhappiness in his face from the time of birth. Always a happy globin.

Baleke and the brother punched the groung like to prisoners of war on escape. Striking through trees and sticks, grasses and weeds; in chase of the five kilometre long and four metres wide a round, that would hold them until their wheels reached the market. Since the sun was falling on the left hand from the rising right hand side, they continued to strench forward; for the market was at the right hand side. Then, they had to get to the road.

Periods of seasons had passed with sunshine and rains eversince Baleke visited the market. Emotionally, when Maama surreded her breath to the goddesses everything changed dramatically with pain and memories of home and market times. Maama used to sell a soft liquor made out of ripe bananas. these yellow Sweet things had to be processed with spear grass to produce a fine drink after the filtration had been done away with. It was Baleke’s eldest sister who took the motherly role after Maama. In her Nabikote home they had stayed after Maama’s departure.