Baraka.

Chapater 1.

"Baraka."

"Baraka!" My father calls out Knocking at my simba. A simba is a room designated for a young man after going through the knife. It is within the vicinity of my parent's compound. I do not respond.

"What do I have to do to get a peaceful sleep around here?" I groan to myself. It's 5:30 a.m and I am still sleepy.

"Baraka if I call out your name one more time..."   I quickly roll out of my bed.

"I will be out in a moment father."

The old man is quiet the lion and I do not want to upset him early in the morning. I neatly tuck the corners of my bedsheet to the headboard and dress up. I wash my face and get out of my simba and meet him outside. He is still standing at the door.

"Good morning father."

"Good morning son. How many times do I have to teach you that it is a gravious sin to manhood to find yourself asleep when the sun has risen. The ancestors may punish you for that. "

"I know dad but I am so tired. Remember I came home late last night from getting hay for the herd."

"Stop whining and go feed the cows and and sheep."

"Why can't Bakari do it all by himself. We pay him after all." Bakari is our herdsman.

"Son it is your duty to be a responsible man. I would also appreciate if you stop this complaining habit of yours. Now go and do as I instructed you to do then freshen up before you can join us for breakfast."

Argh. This is so annoying. Why do we have a helper if I get to do most of the work? This is absolute torture. I do not think in my entire existence I will ever get used to getting up that early. I have the same exact problem in school.
"Hello Baraka, I can see you are still shit faced this morning. Were you talking to yourself?"

"Hello Bakari. Mzee is really getting on my nerves. You know what,never mind. I do not want to talk about it. Let us get to work."

"Whatever you say young sir."
He says with a grin. I know he is mocking me but I ignore him. I am not in the mood arguing this early. We have fourteen cows and twenty four sheep. I get the hay and the feeds and put it at the feedstalls. Meanwhile Bakari and the other two workers clean the shed and the pen before milking. They deliver the milk to the dairy society on my dad's pick-up truck. The central government had banned selling milk directly to consumers for health precautionary measures and obviously so they can find a way to get taxes from the small scale farmer. My father gets paid by the  dairy society for the amount of milk delivered.

It's 7 a.m and we are done with the work.
My mother calls me to inform that breakfast is ready. I am so worn out. I get back and freshen up before changing. I wear my khaki trousers and a black t-shirt before joining my lovely parents at the dining table for breakfast.
My dad has already doned his uniform and is holding up the newspaper. Does he ever get tired of the news? While we were doing the early chores, he was watching the morning breakfast show.

"Good morning my baby"

"Hi mom." I take a sit. Breakfast has already been served.  Ginger tea and mahamris. My favorite. I dig in like a somebody who has not eaten for days. Oh boy! All that work made me starve. My mom looks at me smiling.

"Have you finished your chores?"My dad finally asks.

"Yes sir." I reply.

"Good. Do not forget to study son. Remember you are about to join form four. (senior year in highschool)."
Here we go again.
"Remember, you are the son of a chief of the great people of Tumaini and you have to set a good example among your peers. You must excel and join the university to pursue law or medicine so that the community will be proud of you."

"Father I have already told you I am going to be an actor, writer or a poet. That is..."

"Nonsense. That is not going to happen under my watch. I cannot allow my son, the son of a chief of the great people of Tumaini to waste away to such shenanigans. As long as I am the one who sired you and you are under my roof, you are going to be a lawyer or a doctor. End of story."

"Mtemi, give the kid a break. He wants to do what makes him happy. Let him be."

"Woman, listen very carefully. You better bring back senses to your son. He has to be a renowned person in this community."

"He can be renowned in many ways not necessarily as the way you want it." My mother interjects. She always has my back and is very supportive of me.

"Do not encourage him. Now I am going to work and I do not want to hear any of this actor nonsense. I have spoken."

In rage I stand from my seat ready to storm out.
"Excuse me! Where do you think you are going? You do not walk out on me." He barks at me. I turn back and look at his venomous cold stare ready to skin me alive. I quietly sit down not knowing what is going to happen next.
"Look son. I am your father and I want the best for you." I do not utter another word lest hell erupts again.

"I am going to work now. I have a long day ahead. Do not forget to study."

"Should I drop you to the grocery store or you will go later?" My father asks mom as he wears his beret.

"Let me get the keys and my bag and we will go." My mother says. She owns a grocery store. I occasionally go with her but not today. I am exhausted. She says she does not want to be totally dependent on my father. She works really hard. It all started as a small kiosk but now has grown to a huge grocery store. I really admire her determination and work ethic. At first my father was opposed to the idea of his wife working. He claimed he could provide for her every need. My mother did not have any of it and insisted until he had no alternative but to agree to my her wishes. My mother is the type of woman who when has decided on something, nothing can deter her from getting it. She is gentle, kind and caring. However she can turn on you when you upset her. I admire her a lot.

They both leave the house and bid me a nice day. My mother asks me to behave and not get angry at my father.
"You do know he has the best interests for you. Right?" I just nod and say nothing. I can hear the car ignition turned on and they leave.Mzee is really getting on my nerves. Why does he not realize that times have changed and not everybody has to do conventional white collar jobs in order to be successful. It really annoys me. I wish he could just listen to me.
I remain seated at the table for a while before deciding to leave the house to meet her.