Introduction to Sex: and do it like a dog!
As the sun turned a big orange ball in the distant hills of Gele Gele and swallows starting circling in the sky catching hapless flies; as termites filed out from anthills only to end up in the beaks of excited singing birds; as baboons in the nearby hill separating the tribes of Kipsigis and Kissis competed in shouting the loudest, it was then the time to round up our cattle for a short journey home.
We were always joyous to have finished the day. The sun will descend the short distance between it and the hill faster that it had done during the day. Before long, darkness will engulf the land. All you could hear was village boys singing and screaming or some mothers calling their mischievous sons at the top of their voices. Drunkards too will be heard singing and shouting as if to light their paths home. Dogs too (the ratio of dogs in our village must have been 5 dogs to one village boy) could be heard roaring all over. Cows who have misplaced their calves would moo endlessly. The village was noisy and bustling with last minute activities at this time of the evening.
The maize grinding mill too, could be heard gradually coming to a stop with its tuk tuk tuk sound. Some mother who had missed to take her maize to the mill in time could be heard asking her neighbor whether she had enough to share. In the distance came a faint sound of a generator that pumped water to the market. As all these ensued, we got our cows home.
Our cattle enclosure, where they spend the night, was large and fenced all round. At the far right corner, was a separate pen for the calves. Our first business was to separate the cows from the calves. It involved a lot running around as we rounded the calves. The youngest of them would engage us in a marathon run all over the enclosure. I tell you, young calves can give a run but luckily we were equally nimble.
When that was done, the next task was to tether some cows that were notorious for breaking out to the maize farm. It was a hard task for the same cows were good at employing a number of skills to evade the tether. It took a lot of skills and a lot risks. If you escaped getting kicked, you would not escape getting lifted with the horns and tossed some distance. One way or the other, we managed the feat every single night.
When that was done and there was a bright moon lighting the world, we would start paying attention to the toads that were hidden on the mole-holes making noise. These toads used to shout ‘ing’o’ after every short interval all over the enclosure. ‘Ing’o’ in our native language means ‘who are you?’ We imagined they were asking us our names. I would shout my names every time they said ‘ng’o’ and to my surprise and ire, they will not listen and kept on saying ‘ng’o’. After exhausting all our names, including ancestral ones and even nicknames, we would insult them and go stamping hard on the surface where they were shouting from. They would then keep quiet and we would go to the next only for the first to start asking our names again. We would go round and round stamping and shutting them up till when we were tired.
There grew toadstools and white wild inedible mushrooms in the enclosure. As we went round silencing toads all over the place, we would kick the mushrooms. When occasionally we spotted a toad leaping by, we kicked it hard to punish it for asking our names and not caring to listen when we volunteered to tell it. Such was the fun.
When we were tired kicking toads and toadstools, the next round was to go tethering the goats in the pen. This was a task we looked forward to for all the wrong reasons. It happened that one of our aunty was working very far away and had therefore employed a housegirl to take care of her house in the village. That housegirl was older than us, maybe a teenager or even older. She would sneak into the pen and tell us to play sex with her. She would teach us how to do it and all of us would take turns ‘making love’ to her. I remember she would tell us to do it like our dog used to do it and we would really struggle to do it like our dog John Boss. When you got tired (for to do it like a dog was not such a mean feat) your turn was over and you go running round the pen as another boy take over. Your turn would come again and again several times before she decided it was enough.
After she has had enough, she will swear us to secrecy by way of a ritual. She would take a goat’s dropping and tell us to lick it and swear never to reveal the secret to anybody whatsoever, else we will die( we kept this secret and this is the first time I am revealing it, hope I won’t die!). This went on for a long time till when she was married off. I can remember her face contorting and her heavy breathing as she lied on top of me in that goats’ pen. Even her smell, which could beat the stench of goats’ droppings, is still fresh in my memory. It was a sweet adventure though but I regret having to lose my virginity against my will. (I used to pray God in our Sunday School in the hill -where again she was our teacher-to forgive me the sin in the goats’ pen)
Having finished with the sex orgies, we would either go home to stories and dinner or go on playing in the moonlight.
I almost forgot to relate how we used to welcome a new moon in the village. When we spotted a new moon in the sky, we would sing, ‘kakolong arawet kakolong, kolongyi Rotik gaa kakolong’ to mean, ‘ the moon has just rose, it has risen to our village Rotik’. When other kids heard us singing mentioning that the new moon belonged to our village, they will also sing the same song welcoming the new moon to their villages. We would go on and on.
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