The Village Girl



By Faith Musengy’a

Being the last born in a family of two, I managed to surpass the required cut-off points for admittance

to the University. My father was happy and excited because for once one of his girls was joining the university; the most stubborn one. My mother on the other hand was thanking God for her efforts had bore fruits. Remembering back in 2009 when I had gone to do an interview at a public boarding school we were forced to spend our night on a cold floor scented with paraffin.

Being the first person in our family to set foot to the university I was happy because I will m

ake new friends and also very excited because I had been admitted to my dream university. This University was away from my tribal land and I loved this since I had spent my last days of my life studying within the confines of my tribal land. Despite my tribal accent, I am proud to speak and interact with the rest of the students. I am also proud of my tribal land since it has made me whom I am now.

I am jubilant about this campus at the moment because for once there is no water problem, as we all know water is life. Back in my tribal land where I have spent my past nineteen years water is a major problem. One is forced to travel for kilometers to get this life. Back in my boarding life I was only given a liter to take a bath and wash my uniform. Drinking water was given in a half a cup.

The climate of this foreign land which is the home of champions is favorable and I am in love with it. My tribal land, where I attended my primary and secondary education, lies amidst a semi desert. It was a great challenge, especially when eating the dry ‘githeri’. You are dehydrating and you use all the saliva in your mouth trying to gobble down the dry seeds.

This foreign land is Canaan for me; green land full of water and milk. Not to forget the large fields of wheat and maize. Least on the list is the beautiful scenery of waterfalls and cataracts. When I get back home I will tell my mother about the big beautiful cows which produce lots of milk and how sometimes I am tempted to milk them. These cows have no horns and big eyes like ours back in my tribal land. I will also tell my village mates who got married back in primary school about ’ Mabs’ where all greens are sold and not like our ‘soko‘ where you go to shop and miss to see anything  green.

I am tempted to carry my village to this foreign land for them to see this wonders. I am proud of this same village because they are proud of my village and also because they utilize the resources they have wisely. Long live my village.


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