Open LTJ
Nyathina, Wuod Nyarkawino, it is your birthday today. 16 suns ago today someone wrote on my patient chart, “pt. asking again for baby”. I know this because I reached out to the hospital you were born in a decade after, before they could legally get rid of the chart. I requested to see the medical records, our medical records. I wanted to take one last look at that day through the eyes of those that were charged with ensuring your safe delivery. I took notes, lots of notes, because ati you are not allowed to make copies. It’s their property.
Nyathi ma inipir ichako go chon
The child you will look after, you must begin early
Awendo ok we yiere
A guinea fowl does not leave its feathers
Anywho, back to “pt asking again for baby”. I didn’t like that you were in the nursery a lot. I was not in the best of shape but even in my overwhelmed state, I knew you were assigned to me. Yaani I almost heard God’s voice saying “huyu ni wewe”. I took that assignment to heart because the first thing I saw on your face, was the great jokaruoth. You were..ARE a combination of all the great jokawino and jokaruoth. From the way you ng’wenyo your kuon to the way to philosophize over the unfolding of life….genius lilo. I have learned so much since you picked me to be your mother.
I have learned that it takes a village. I’m very keen on keeping the right people in this village. Your spirit knows how to pick them and I’ve learned to honor them in the best way I can.
I have learned, well, I’m learning the art of allowing yaani accepting what is and noticing the good the universe keeps putting together for us. You remind me often that “It is what it is”
I am learning that ‘whatever doesn’t bring me joy, I have declared to small’
I have learned, rather, you remind us to maintain the warm happy talks at the dinner table. That’s therapy.
Rit matin….I will pause here and continue with this letter baadaye. I want to leave you with the words of Margaret Ogola (The River and the Source) “…for the great river starts its journey as a little stream which at first meanders around without any apparent direction, sometimes disappearing underground altogether, but always there, always moving towards the sea.”
jwave
Naenda hivi narudi…