Gibson Kiplangat
Written by Gibson Kiplangat
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When I knocked off my toes in the dark dusks, trekking miles to your father’s home I bled like a man, in silence and for fear of calling upon the creatures of the night. Picking up the broken pieces of me, to string for you ornaments of our memories. The painful scars I tattooed on my arms, sliding on thorns as I hid from passersbys determined to make it up to you, in the darkest and most scary of times. When I had to remove my clothes, to dance my way through a crowd of nude night runners trying to mimic their ritualistic dances, hopping over flames of fire, hoping to reach you Blistering my tongue, in painful attempts to swallow glowing coal as was their test of brevity Breaking my back on stones as I somersaulted trying to turn myself into scary shadows i cried not, for I knew at the end of this frenzy madness, was a serene bed of love.

When I had to buy and drink gullons of local brew at the slopes of Koiwa hills(your village), to monitor your father drink himself silly,  so as to easen my way into his homestead, as he sung war songs to imaginary foes.  The sleeping herbs you mixed in your mother’s meal, so she slept standing like a hen.  How we eloped into the fields, our bodies smothering the young leaves of germinating crops.  All were done to fulfill the prayers of two hearts, playing in the name of love.



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About the author

Gibson Kiplangat

Gibson Kiplangat

I talk politics, walk politics, think politics, spend 99% of my time on politics. Am liberal, fearless and a man of quick action.

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