How long must I cry?

"Aaaawwwwwwwwwwiiiiiiuuuuuuuuu! Weeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaauuuuu!"
In my dazed mind, it sounds like the wind howling.

"Aaaaawwwwwwwiiiiiuuuuu! Weeeeeeeeaaaaaaauuuuuu!"
Dust billows all around. The land is as scorching as the relentless sun above me. Ten more kilometers. Or twenty. Or none. I no longer know.
I seek shelter beneath what was once a flourishing baobab tree. I look at it beseechingly, pleading with it to spare some moisture for my parched tongue. It stares back at me, unmoved. "Every man and creature for himself and God for us all," it seems to whisper to me.

"Aaaawwwwwwwwiiiiiiiuuuuu! Weeeeeeeaaaaaaaauuuuuuu!"
The wind seems to be screaming my name but I do not care. "Awiu, where are you?" it mockingly sings. I have no strength to care. I stare blankly up ahead at the refugee camp, willing my legs to hold my weightless body and carry me to safety. Water. Food. I can almost taste the relief.

"Aaaaaaawwwwwwwiiiiiiuuuuuuuu! Weeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuu!"
I close my eyes against the dust. I open them again. Before me lies the barren land that has been my home since I was born. No refugee camp. No water. No food. No relief. I sigh.
I look up at the sky at the vultures circling. They can smell death even from that distance. I look beside me at Aisha. The irony of it all. Aisha means "alive and well", yet I can only pray she will hold on for a little bit longer. Hold on, my only angel. Don't leave me yet, my love. Her brother Jamal's body is somewhere in the desert. Jamal, with his big eyes and mischievous smile - so sunken and broken in death. What could I do? I had to leave his body there to try and carry Aisha to safety.
The vultures cries draw me from my reflections. Aisha stirs and tries to get closer to me. With the last of my strength I lift her onto my lap. She tries to suckle and gives up after a few futile attempts. I want to laugh. Maniacal laughter expressing my desperation. My breasts are dry and full of nothing.

"Aaaaawwwwwwiiiiuuuuu! Weeeeeeaaaaauuuuuuu!
Everyone is gone. Mama. Papa. Abdul. Abdul went off into the town to look for work to feed us. I do not know when he shall return. Ayeyo and I, we went off in search of water. We took the babies and the livestock to search for water. Ayeyo and I shared the rations with the babies. We do not take any for ourselves. Jamal and Aisha must eat and survive. The campsite is not far, I tell Ayeyo. Ayeyo nods gently and falls asleep, a beatific smile on her face. She does not wake up again.

I hold Aisha and get up. The wind blowing almost knocks me off my feet. I trudge in the general direction of the campsite. My mind is silent. My heart murmurs a silent prayer to an invisible God to come and rescue me. Death seems like the best deal. No, I tell myself, you must think of Aisha. I continue mumbling to myself, appearing insane to the rocks and tree stumps before me.

I do not realize when I fall. I do not realize when she stops whimpering. Aisha, my angel, flies away. I wrap myself and hold her closely. I cannot do it anymore. I am not strong enough. Mercifully, I fall asleep.


The United Nations officially has declared a famine in the Horn of Africa; the worst of its kind in 60 years. This is a drought so severe it is considered worse than the famine in Ethiopia of the 1980s.
I have tried to imagine what the people in Northern Kenya and Somalia are going through, but I cannot. The above story is an attempt to personalize the issue from reports by the WFP via Twitter and from friends and family who are in Daadab and other famine-stricken areas.
I am a Kenyan, and cannot imagine how my fellow countrymen are languishing in abject misery and devastation as I continue living my life in relative bliss. Thanks to the #FeedKE initiative by Ahmed Salim we can all do our part by donating whatever you can (see below), encouraging your friends and followers on Facebook, Twitter and other social media platforms, and basically using whatever tool you have to spread the word. As for me, I shall continue writing and telling about it.

1) On M-Pesa Paybill to ‘10,000’ Acc: ‘feedke’
2) On Airtel nickname ‘REDCROSS’ reference: ‘feedke’
3) Online: www.kenyaredcross.org

http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=2660712800346700474&postID=5463689431361500813

Dear diary,

Sigh. Where do I begin? I can't seem to shake off that feeling that something's amiss. With me. With Michael. Or is it with Michael and I?
Today Michael took me out for frozen yoghurt at Junction. Planet Yoghurt was empty so we had our pick of seats. I remember being so excited about the whole experience that I could not choose which flavor to sample. Yes, it was that much fun, and no, I am not apologetic about being a kid.
At one point I remember catching him staring at me.
"What?" I asked him.
"What, what?" He responded.
I smiled at the absurdity of the conversation.
Michael and I. Friends for forever. Lovers in our souls.
Many times, I catch myself staring at him. Dimpled cheeks. Wide grin. Tousled hair. Sometimes a slight frown. "Stop frowning," I say to him. "I'm not frowning," a look of surprise on his face. I laugh. I am happy.
Then.
I don't understand the distance. Am I reading too much into the situation? Why are you sitting across the room when you normally sit next to me? I want to tuck my legs underneath yours for warmth.
I saw you looking at me as if you wanted to kiss me, but at the last minute you turned away. And at that moment you missed the flash of hurt in my eyes. Am I that difficult to show emotion to? I know you feel it too.
Then.
You kiss me. The world stops. At least, I think it does. Do you know I can feel your heart beat faster? Can you feel mine racing to catch up with yours? You taste slightly of coconut and chocolate. Bounty. Your musky scent engulfs me. OMG. Where is the couch?
Then.
I can't understand why we are standing here in silence. You are looking out the window. I trace your spine and you stiffen. I leave. No words. No affection. No kiss goodbye.