Bridelope

As I walk towards

my tomorrow, I see the sands of time

sifted through the screen of age,

Clarified like layers of mud from Wigwa

Then I tossed the chaff against the wind

I am beaded to a T, I am a bride

for a man I know little about

I wonder what it would be like to walk to the others

If in their hands it would be just as uncertain?

Maybe my children should have been dark-skinned;

like Odhiambo. Tall like Lenana, or coarse-voiced like Maina.

Or perhaps light-skinned like the insides of a ripe mango.

But I truly hope before we share the bull’s heart

scorched over acacia’s wood. That this uncertain future,

That this forever, is too long to sift

Circumcision by the river

After the ceremonial circumcisions, the Maasai boys dress in black, have their face painted white [ONLINE]. Available at: http://humorplease.com/i-documented-daily-lives-of-african-tribes-for-four-months/

The last day of my childhood
Is the first day of my manhood.
I will not wince.
Like a warrior I will pounce.
By the river I leave boyhood.