Baby Drago: Third birthday in shags with surprises, a goat and sugar highs

Last Saturday is my third birthday.

But I wake up so sad because I know my mommy and my daddy and Milan they are far in Nairobi.

They cannot come here to ushago for ntagu (Granpa) because of ‘lock town’ because of the number ‘nineteen.’ I hate 19!

Even after I turn 18, I will refuse to cut a birthday cake when I go 19 yearses older.

After breakfast, even if I am no feeling to sleep, my nanny Alicia force me (and my first cousin Laila) to get under the duvet and to fall asleep. Suddenly, I am waked up by someone shouting ‘Surprise!’ and pulling the duvet off the bed.

I am dreaming that my Mommy is the one pulling. I miss her so much, so I start to cry. In the dream, she also look like she want to cry. She picks me up.

Only when I hear her voice is when I know for real, it is mommy, not a dream!

That’s when I wake up and see Aunty Faye carrying her phone and a homemade cake with candles. It’s not like last year’s big birthday cake of ‘Valentine’ from the Nairobi that looks like Spiderman but it is still warm and smells so nice.

Mommy on the video call on the phone and everyone sing happy birthday Leo for me at three, at ten in the morning, and we eat the cake with tea.

It is verrryyy delicious!

Then my mum tell her mum and dad joke with their sisters and brother (Uncle Ryan) how she can come to Meru.

“Nitatafuta barua inasema mi ni turn boy,” she says, “nitakuja na driver wa pick-up ya miraa, after kumlipa.”

“Bora usijifanye undertaker,” Aunt Faye says, “na kukuja na empty coffin hapa, Mama Drago!”

I don’t know why they laugh so much, but I start to shout ‘gari ya miraa, hem coughing, gari ya miraa.’

For lunch, Ntagu honours my birthday by slaughtering a mbuzi.

When it sees kisu, it breaks rope, jumps fence and takes off down the barabara – but Uncle Blackie climbs the Madza Damey-o and chases it. And comes back with it in the booty. I feel sorry for mehhhh!

But I still eats its meats, which is so sweet.

At 3pm, when the growns-up watch that man who always say nineteen, they tell nanny Alicia to take us for siesta.

I pretend to sleep, then go to chicken and comes back with a can of Glue Close. Laila opens it, and we manage to eat half of it before Auntie Emma, coming to check on us, busts us with snow on our mouthses. “Bad Baby Drago, mbaya Baby Laila.” Laila starts to cry, but I’m now three, so I laugh.

In the morning, I wakey up with a high ‘Glue Close’ fever, while Laila she wakey up with a bad sore sugar throat. My name is Baby Drago, I am now in ushago; and I am three years and one weeksie old.