Audacity of Emotions

SHE RAISED US ALL

Her identity is her smell, a combination of sweat and the stench of milk past its sell by date. You see her walking around, her focus is on the ground.  Staring hard while in deep thoughts.  She is a mathematician without the four corners of a class. Her effort has no room for luxury. 
She walks past our home because we have no fence yet so I happen to see her pass by everyday,almost the same time. Her focus is still on the hard surface. Her back has now taken the posture by itself for sake of its survival.  

I take a keen look now as she enters our compound,  I study her clothes in details.  I notice the layer after layer of mud mixed with dust. Its garissa so dust is our trademark.
Pardon me because am not idle at all,its just that her job is as common as the bambow (come to garissa and you will know the guy in the suit even in the sweltering heat)

She walks over to me as she lays her luggage. She smiles exposing a set of discoloured teeth. A sign that she has no proper nutrition or so is what I learnt from the community school that I attended.
My small sister rushes to the house to get the jug and quickly gives it to her. My thoughts now moved to her cracked feet,so cracked was it I could put my finger right there and chuck it without her noticing.

She removes a plastic cup from her sack that serves as the only means of carrier.
She carefully balances the cup that she has filled to the brim on purpose  then into the jug. Once,twice and my sister dashes to get it
Who said  she would go without the daily gossip. Still sitted on  a three legged stool made of skin with stripes of zebras,I follow their conversation keenly as she high fives with my hoyo.

I overhear my mom's voice as she contributes to the story.  I could detect the empathy filled in her voice.  Then slowly i understand why she treks so hard. She has 3 boys in the local school and two young ones at home with no father figure around.  He has a last seen that read "19/2/2003". The affidavit of the lady claimed that he had been an Administration police until recently when he claimed to have gotten a transfer but in reality, he had eloped with a young lass who had just arrived in town. How could she let down  a police.  He was protection and pride all wrapped up in one swaddling package .

My mother's voice still evidently louder was trying to comfort her but the lady had a plunged soul,it seemed to have rusted with deep pain and burden of raising several children alone.
I couldn't help but be proud of her. Proud of the long journeys she made for the sake of her children . Sacrificing her needs for them.
She really raised us all for with her was an assured supply of milk every evening,then we could enjoy our casiriya gliding down our throats and scalding our tongues.

If I joined in the conversation, I would receive a thorough lushing with words from my no-nonesense mother so I gave the lady a standingovation in my heart .
And from then,I stopped seeing her as  the lady in deep thoughts doing her calculations while walking.
Instead I saw a lady,filled with power,strength and resilience.

She is the woman of strength.  She is the famous canoley. (Milklady )