As Kenya’s political roads increasingly lead to Emanyulia, the villagers are restless about latter day Bob Astles, individuals with little respect for substance, method and decorum when visiting us.
These powerful fellows go straight into our fireplace, and into our cooking pots. They dip their dirty hands into the pot and eat right there at the fireplace, straight from the pot. They decide who else eats with them. Between overloaded mouthfuls, they share portions straight into people’s palms, seated on the earthen floor at the cooking place. In gone years, Ugandans wore these Bob Astles around the neck, like the albatross. Now it’s Emanyulians.