Sounds

I miss the sound of a cock crowing in the mornings

I miss the cawing of a murder of crowns near hastily improvised dump heaps.


I miss the sight of the matronly looking stork observing me observe her from

her perch in the acacia tree over uhuru highway.


I miss the buzz of the bees that decided that the green ncc lamp post

would make the best home.


I miss the chesty bark of the "mbwa kali" at the house near the bus stop

who seemed so tired that he should be enjoying a pension

consisting of lying in the sun instead.


I miss the disembodied caterwauling of the stray tom cats that

littered the neigbourhood when they were in heat, moaning

their lack of females wondering how to share the few they had.


I miss the drumming of the Akorino troupe as they paraded their

faith for all to hear.


I miss the sound of the cow bell on the lead bull and the

mooing of the herd of cows led by the maasai herds boy


I miss the honking of the geese and the gobbling of the turkeys

stationed on ngong road


I miss the throbbing base from F2 on a sunday afternoon as those

within sought to

undo the work done in churches that morning


I miss the twang of poorly tuned guitars over speakers one

decibel from tearing commandeered by the gung ho

preacher who prattles about salvation and judgement


I miss the cacophony of touts seeking travellers

telling all that there is only one

seat remaining in the matatu or bus.


I miss the neighbourhood watchmen's daily chit chat and

inane questions to strangers.


I miss the crackling of maize being roasted over

an open fire


I miss the cacopohonic yet synchronised chants

and songs of the street hawker enticing us to come

see and buy for one price.


I miss the patois of different people from

different places.


I miss the ping of hammers and the zing of

pneumatic drills at construction sites.

I miss the patter of rain on iron sheet roofing.


I miss the mishmash of music,laughter,conversation

and seductive whispers in the local bar.


I miss profanities uttered in different languages spewed

at selfish drivers in the traffic.

I miss the please of innocence by the kijana who is

found by the police without an i.d and the appropriate

tribute.


I miss the sound of knocking at the gate when the neighbour

comes to visit.


I miss the sloshing of water in buckets and jerry cans as

homes prepare for water rationing.


I miss the piercing call of the muezzin as he reminds the faithful

of their obligations.


I miss the groan of shock absorbers and the squeaking of bearings as

cars are beaten into submission by the roads.


I miss the squeals of joy and ecstatic screams mingled with tears as

families welcome their beloved from their travels abroad.


My ears miss home.........