Boys from the East

Arungah found his way through the thorny small grasslands bordering the two countries and smashing his feet against the soils of any little town he crossed as he no longer looked back for those whom he had proposed causing him to flee. The same thick red blanket they in their tribe call, shuka, clothing him for the nearly seven days he had been escaping for his life, and already worn out foot wears protecting his feet, he had resisted going off him; the ever reliable bald club for his usual job, he made his closest companion-cum-most reliable Kinsman since he never had the privilege to own a spear. What ever the situation was in the dark or light, dry or wet, he had always made himself bold, confident and stout-hearted as he and others always believed Ngai (or also Enkai) always protected them and also ever ready to help them in cases of needs and troubles; but at that very moment he never knew or thought of what particularly he needed except he only realized he was once in trouble and, being rescued which was a successful escape. If it was the usual medium of wealth measurement which was the number of cattle owned by a man, that was not a problem (to him) as it had been deemed to be given them freely by the She-god of the earth, Ngai and not by any one else believing that, they, the Maasais owned all the cattle of the earth, and their only job and reliable source of income.

Arungah came down to a fruitless tree with only leaves on it and many dry ones already fallen and others still doing so as he watched it happen while he sat under it for yet another rest after a long walk through many grasslands with another plan still arising in his head if to sleep there for the day as the nightfall descended slowly or not. Even if not accustomed with hunger, he knew beforehand he was not going further to eat anything for that day after drinking some cattle blood from other cattle rearers using the only means he had involved himself in since the onset of his predicaments knowing he would not remain a beggar forever.

He yawned several times while still sitting idle like a night guard holding only his barrel; then he slept off, burying his body- head and feet in his highly honoured multipurpose shuka in spite of the repulsive smell oozing out from it, nevertheless, he had nothing to do about it; and re-inhaling the already exhaled air did nothing to him; the She would always guard and preserve them and they would not die as others like him always grew old to become men, only the unfortunate ones returned to the earth at childhoods.