The Day I saved my Bakule.

Chamgei.

Bakule is a Greek name. Reserved. Only invoked when things want to go southern or northern.

You call Bakule someone whom you went to Gaa sambur (home of Sampur) together and you didn't die there. The year we were going was 1998. The year was good. Elders had beat the stomach of a goat and everything was right. Korgob kogel had a child next to her. All signs in the sky and earth was very good to open girls and boys. It was also ripe to remove kitikab kirugik ak kweesik. 

How we were opened and released is a story of another day.

That aside, this is how I saved my Bakule from lefting school after being opened. An opened man in those days was purely dry and going back to school especially primary to be told to kneel down and bent forward like a cow was a total taboo, savage Cains was not a problem, he could endure even 100 strokes.

It was February 1999. I had opened school, high school, mark it. Baringo to be specific. One of the biggest schools in Kenya nowadays. I had been sent home for fees. But home was home, I knèw there was nothing to take back to school. The last cow of my dad was sold when I was joining form one. How I completed four years in a national school is a chapter of another day.

It was end of February and I meet my Bakule felling down trees, cut into logs, arrange them southward, burry , burn, remove and sell.

Bakule, asumuretai. I greeted my Bakule, asumuretain, he responded. Lee nee betusiek, I ask in Greek. Ngo mo ya bakule, he answered. Ang sukul, koilyonji bakule, I ask.Koabiste ane arage, he fumed. I laughed. What happened? I was told to go back to class seven after missing 380 marks to repeat class eight, he explained. Masomo was tough in those days. The Earth belonged to kipkoimet ageset in those days. They were stamping their authority everywhere, even at school.

I begged my Bakule, Bakule wektengei sukul buana. Moomin kiy. Ui sepen, Kenyino imi eight, imas kongato kokeny.

Mokisirei bakule, he agreed. We greeted again and sigh muretai.

My Bakule went back to school in March 1999 but to class seven, and remember he was dry, who always keep right. I gave him some tricks and I advised him to break some rules which we had learned in 'Gaa Sambur' for him to sail through in school. He obliged. My advise worked. My Bakule did his kcpe in the year 2000. He scored good marks and join form one the following year. He got a good school. 

My Bakule is nowdays a big person in this republic. 

So, motian sagityan. Pride is a slippery road. Mokisirei bakule. Kikonyiti kapbakule.