REVENGE IN THE VILLAGE

THERE IS A DEAD MAN IN OUR COMPOUND

Growing up in a local village in the late '90s and early 21st century was more fun and interesting than being brought up in a metropolitan center.

The only good thing about being raised in a town was that kids from the respective homes would spend most of their off days(weekends and holidays) watching the renowned tom and jerry cartoon episodes, riding bicycles to and fro friends houses, or even calling them on the corded landline to see if they wanted to come for a sleepover.

I was brought up in a small village in Nyeri county, central Kenya. I am in the category of the generation that saw the world shift and I can remember life before the computers, before social media, and before cell phones. But I am also part of the first generation to learn the ins and outs of technology. I have one foot in the past and one foot in the future.

According to my local school experts, my village had a reputation of producing horrid, disfigured, and bad-looking girls who were not worth gaining attention from the Biggies.

I had become a standing joke among my peers in the class and I would always get ridiculed and mocked as if it was my fault.

Whenever the guys in my class would have a conversation judging the wags in their villages, I dared not contribute.it did not only lower my self-esteem but my class tests grades too. some even did it intentionally in my presence just lowering my dignity and making my life miserable.

It's the early English men who said that "someday you tame the tiger. and someday the tiger has you for lunch "

Their laughter and mockery days were however numbered. It was not long before a middle-aged woman with mid-night-black hair relocated into our hamlet.

She occupied an old, abandoned bungalow in the outskirts of the village market, which stood in a composed way as if it had chosen to solitude itself.

According to the rumors from the village gossipers,tale-tellers, and whisperers, I heard them blab that she had purchased the house from the owner, who was an old, toothless, grey-haired woman who had abandoned it many years ago after the death of her only son.it was allegedly said that she had relocated to Kitale areas to live with her elder sister who had died two years later due to a fatal accident in salgaa areas and she had become so lonely and all she dreamt of was death.

The arrival of Mama Rosa in our village however enlightened my school existence. I was soon able to gain respect from my peers and even participated in their discussions just because of Mama Rosa's three daughters. They were nice alluring darling.

They were all devastatingly attractive, the type of attractiveness that makes you do a double-take or trip over something because you are preoccupied with their existence. Their eyes were literary like the night sky, looking at them was fascinating. Their smiles looked the same and on the same note, they were the most adorable things I have ever seen.

They all had medium-packed asses and luscious pointed boobs that could make any man sell his piece of land just to have pleasure with any of them.