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Stephen Kalonzo Musyoka Kata Kuni Weka Tabut... The phrase leaves a smile on my face. It has got nothing to do with the politician but I still wonder who taught me such.  Such an innocent gesture for a kid who was barely 7 to have such a long name. That was me.  Whenever I could be asked to spell out my name,  that was what I said. The innocence of a young child had overwhelmingly engulfed me. Whenever I see kids these days in standard one converse in fluent English I am amazed.  I remember when I was at the same class or probably higher classes,  when schools would close and my cousins would come over for Holiday at my grandma's place in Signore.  'Stephen how are you', my Aunt Selinah would enthusiastically try to exchange niceties and gauge what I have been learning in school concurrently.  My response would always be marred by inaudible utterances which when explained by my Cuz Kip, I just can't help but laugh out loud at myself. 'ish lush jush iguyt '. I bet it was something like the aforementioned.
When my cousins visited during the holidays,  my status in the village quickly elevated. I spontaneously metamorphosed into a cool kid. The village,  Singore,  was a good place for them to take a break from their busy schedules, hustle and bustle plus the confines of their urban lives.  It was also my time to brag around and get to consume goodies they brought with them.  There sere some sweets and biscuits that I could only eat during such holidays.

My beloved grandma is a disciplinarian.  Anything we did,  we did it caution.  Breakfast I can say was a bit funny.  Having ate ugali(Mogoriet) and 'Morik' which I still do, the entire term, introduction of bread was a complete luxury.  That was in the same league with chapati and rice. But that did not pass out to be that easy. In the grass thatched hut,  all the grandkids had their specific seats and there were conditions attached before we could be given bread.  Bread could not be served unless the 'mogoriet ' and 'morik ' were over.  While trying to beat the target, we could always see the older members of the family take three or four slices stacked together and we were kind of fearing the depletion of the bread, knowing that if it gets finished we had to wait for more than a week to have such an experience.  After we were through with what we were tasked with,  each one of us was given a slice of a bread...  To us that felt like a slice of life,  very crucial