Nature Vs Freedom

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Kenya

Kenya is the home to many creatures. The great loin, king of the jungle and its relatives. Its prey the antelope ,zebra and wilder beast. Tall giraffes and large elephants. The wild Jungles and vast plains. All home to the borders of Kenya. Everywhere I look I see nature in its boldest forms. I look at myself and everyone I know, and I see yet another part of nature.

My father once told me that when god made man he placed them here , in the Great Rift Valley, among every other creature on earth. I believe that story to this day.

Today my mama set me a task, she told me to “Be brave my young Tiera and you shall become a great Masai warrior”. I did not know what she meant by this, but I was brought up respecting my elders and obeying my parents. So I was brave. I was sent to have my circumcision that day-a usual task for a 11 year old boy-but a painful one. I had no medicines; I did not squeal and most of all I stayed completely still. Even my facial expressions had to be locked up inside me. I am glad I did that, or I would still be a child today.

My mama was so pleased with me when I returned. Her smile brightened the room, “You shall have a happy life my child, with 8 wives and thousands of cattle” she cried into my shoulder. I was pleased with myself, saying this was a huge compliment! 8 wives is the most wives you can have, it means you’re a powerful man. Maybe even tribe leader and that is an honour.

I imagine beyond this village, beyond this valley, beyond the Masia way of living. Where the men are cowardly and the women are set free from their barred cage. Where the young boys are not trained to be warriors, a place which is so unnatural they don’t need to. I can’t imagine living there. The way of life so different. I wonder how boys can ever live without some sort of fear in their heart controlling their emotions. And whether they actually enjoy life without knowing were they stand in it

England

It’s always so rainy. I hate it. It always puts me down, especially when I’m walking to school. I wish I could live somewhere were the sun smiles and the clouds do not cry. But I guess I’m stuck here. In London. In a way I’m fibbing when I say this. I mean I could not live without playing football on Saturdays and a bite to eat at burger King, Not being able to meet up with my mates and look at girls. Of course my mum doesn’t let me do that anyway, but when I’m older ill get my way.

My mum said to me once that “we are living in the western world were we are so lucky with so many opportunities and choices. We are one if the great nations of this generation, and I hope when you grow up you plan to keep it this way”. I never planned to. I know there’s a word out there apart from the downs trod buildings were I live. But there, of course, are one of my mothers great lectures in how our country is so great. I rejected this at the time, but deep down in my heart I new it was true, and I always will.

Today my father set me a task, he told me to “concentrate my lad, I no you can do this son, today you will become a real trooper”. I new exactly what he was talking about, I had been waiting for this for some time. I was going to play my first major football match and I was defiantly going to put my mind to it . Loads of boys in my class had played but this was my first time up field. I’m glad I did it or I would be regretting it to this day. That match I faced my fears head on and at the end of it I had come to my prize.

It was no trophy, no money grant. It was simply a pat on the back from my dad and the words “I’m proud of you Michael” which made me honoured to be his son.

I saw a documentary that day on how people live in Kenya. Sometimes I imagine what its like to live in the third world. I have seen it many times before on TV, the way they live in hunger and poverty. But how am I meant to know for sure. I wish in my heart that the things I have seen of it aren’t real. How could someone really live in a place surrounded by wild creatures and even wilder people. How can they live without order and rules? And what puzzles me the most is whether they have a slight part of them that wants to change to a world without fear eating away at their dreams. I wonder if they even have dreams.

KENYA

My biggest dream is to become a Masia warrior. I always wished that through all my training I could see proof that I was some sort of hero. That’s what every boy wants to be in our village. A real hero. And I’m sure that everywhere there is some sort of hope for something like that. I woke up to the gentle sunrise across the blanketing sky and went out onto the villages grounds. Feeling a damp coldness on my feet from the grass blades that had been touched by the nights hand just a few hours back.” The sun would soon warm me up” I thought. Tranquil I walked silently to the hut a few rows down. Stepping in I heard the cries of master Samsun. He had not been well for some time now and his son was getting worried.
“How is he” I asked regrettably.
Siam looked at his feet “He’s not getting better”
There was a silence.
The doctor could not be sure of his condition but we all new it was fatal, the whole tribe did. Ever since he became ill he was a different man, he didn’t seem human. He lay in his bed and groaned all day. It was like he was dead inside.
“Come on we’re going to be late”
I helped Siam up off the hard ground and tried to comfort him but he simply walked out of the hut. He ignored the now vast orange sky, he ignored any sympathy. There was now a rustle of voices to be heard. The village was waking up and it would soon be alive with the footsteps of the labouring wives.

Soon we arrived at our destination. Just outside the villages wooden walls we met our tutor, our trainer, and our guide ...He was the one to show me and.............. the ways of a Masai warrior. After what happened to my father I was always looking up to........ And asking him for advice. He always helped me out, sometimes when I hadn’t even asked. He could spot a problem from a mile away. That’s probably why he became a Masai warrior young. He was only 15. Others become one at the age of 21! But I plan to follow In his footsteps. Become a tall well built Masai with the wisdom to sense danger and the skill to kill perilous beasts. Just like him. I would soon be 15 only 3 years to go. I must make the effort now I would never become like him. ............. Was nearly as old as me. 11, with skinny legs and a short stature. He looked much younger than you would of thought and not the sort to become a hero. But I tried to believe in him after all he had done for me. Who knows maybe he was Masia material.

ENGLAND

I woke up that Monday. The sun was already up shining as brightly as it could through the dense clouds. It seemed to be winning. This time beating through the grey and making contrast from the searing light and echoing shadow upon it. It embraced me and filled my body with good vibes.

As I walked down stairs I heard the muffled voices of two people. They both seemed angry. I stepped into the kitchen and there was my mother with her boyfriend. The Good vibes flew away and distress crept in slyly. They both looked back in shock. My mothers pale face was filled with tears and Mikes full of anger. His hands were clenched like fists; his breathing was hard and furious. I didn’t no what to do. Should I confront them and ask them what was going on? Or should I run up to my room and start the day again, pretend it didn’t happen. But before I could say anything my mother decided for me...

“Go up to your room Michael” She didn’t try to force it through her tears she new I would go anyway. I wouldn’t stay and listen if my life depended on it. Some times things are just not worth knowing.

As I went to school that day I realised who I should blame in the incident. It was obvious. I shouldn’t blame myself but Mike. My mother crying, His clenched fists. He had certainly done something to blame in this. I’m almost certain it wasn’t my mothers fault. The dam rat had gone and made my mum cry. Words don’t describe how much I hate him. Of course I had a lot of time to think about this. 2 buses and a train to catch just to get to school. I feel tortured after the journey. But I suppose it gives me time to reflect.

Finally, I reach school. Bustles of children big and small barge past me. All of them carried away with their discussions like how James Drafis cracked his head open by swinging on his chair in English.” Boy ill never do that again” I thought as I forced my way through crowds of teenagers. Another bit of gossip going round school was how David Hamton had scored a double Hatrick in the big match on Sunday.

That of course was my best friend. One of the most popular boys’ in school, and the one best at football. He sits were my dreams lie.............

To be continued.