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Terry Collett Apr 2015
Milka sat on the grass outside the farmhouse. It was a warm day and insects buzzed the air. Benny had just gone off on his bike; she hadn't wanted him to go, but he had  to be some place else and he had ridden off. Her mother had arrived and was carrying bags of shopping from the boot of the car into the house. She gave Milka a look as if to say: You could help, but said nothing, hoping that a look would indicate the need, but Milka looked back at the road hoping Benny would return to her. Although they'd had *** in her bed-while her mother was out shopping- she felt she needed him still, as if the *** had not been enough, as if her appetite was bottomless. The mother disappeared inside the house, then came out again to the car for more bags. You could help rather than sit there looking into space, her mother said. Milka got up from the grass and made her way over to the boot of the car and picked out two of the lighter bags and carried them behind her mother into the house and placed them on the kitchen table. Anything else? Milka said. Her mother looked at her and saw the stance of her daughter and how reluctant she seemed to be of any real use and shook her head. No, wouldn't want to put you out in anyway, the mother said. I can help if you want me to, Milka said. Make me a drink of tea, then, her mother said. Milka filled the kettle with water and put it on the stove and lit up the stove with a match, then put three spoonfuls of tea into the teapot. She took two cups and saucers from the cupboard and laid them on the top. Her mother put away the groceries and then sat down at the table and  watched her daughter going about the task of tea making. What have you been doing while I’ve been shopping? Her mother asked, you were in bed when I left. Milka looked at her mother. The kettle began to boil. She said, got up and washed and dressed and ate breakfast. Her mother's eyes scanned her. That all? Her mother said. Had she seen Benny along the road? Had she passed him? She gazed at her mother for any clues or maybe a hint as if her mother was testing her. Benny came for a while, Milka said, he's just gone. I know, I saw him along the road riding his bike, her mother said, he waved. The two females looked at each other for a few moments in silence. What did you do? Her mother asked. Questions and questions. As if she suspected. She looked at her mother's face. Took in the eyes. I showed him the baby piglets, Milka said, he thinks they're cute. She had shown him the piglets just before he'd left. After the ***. After the *** and while she was still damp and yet still hungry for it. He's a good boy, her mother said, I like him. I know you do. If only you were younger. Milka nodded and looked at the kettle boiling and whistling away on the stove. She put the hot water in the teapot and stirred the tea-leaves around with a spoon. He'd make a good farm helper, her mother said, shame he's otherwise engaged in that nursery work. Milka poured two cup of tea and added milk and sugar. She took both cups in saucers to the table and sat down. He has worked on a farm he told me, Milka said, when he was thirteen helping out after school. Her mother smiled. And sipped her tea. It'd be good if he worked here, her mother said, on the farm. Yes, you'd like that wouldn't you, having him about the place so you could fuss over him, wishing you were younger, wishing you were a girl again. Ask him, Milka said, knowing he wouldn't, knowing he was happy where he was. I will next time I see him, her mother said. Milka sipped the tea. She still felt damp and sticky. She'd go up and wash down later. She watched her mother sipping tea, looking at the table, thinking. If only you knew what we did earlier, you'd not think him so good. She moved her bottom on the chair, to get comfortable. The image of Benny in her bed was still stuck there in her head. Her arms around his waist. He entering her. She sighed. Her mother looked up at her. What’s up with you? She asked, studying her daughter closely. Stomach pains, Milka said, the first thing that came up in her head. Her mother studied her. Can't believe you're that age, her mother said, don't seem long ago you were pushing a dolls pram around the place. I'm fifteen and have the week coming up, Milka said, pulling a face. When I was your age I’d started work, her mother said. I will when I leave school in July, Milka said, secretly rubbing herself below. Time flies, her mother said, draining her cup of tea, must get on with the housework. She stared at Milka. You can help by tidying your bed and your room, she said. The bed. She had tidied it a bit after the ****** acts, but it may need proper seeing to. Yes, I'll do it when I've drunk my tea, she said, hoping her mother wouldn't venture in her room before her, hoping she'd not see any signs. Make sure you do. I've never seen such an untidy room, her mother said. If she'd seen it earlier it was a right mess. Seen us. At it.  She blushed. Her mother had gone. She felt herself redden in the face. What if she had returned early? What if she had opened the door? Her heart missed a beat. It seemed too surreal to think about. Where was Benny now? Seventeen and at work for two years and she wants him here working? If she knew. She went to the window and peered out. It was warm out and the sky was a brighter blue.
A GIRL AND HER MOTHER AND SECRETS AND DESIRES IN 1964.
Terry Collett Aug 2014
I ride on my bike to the farmhouse
with Milka's brothers
after Saturday morning work

we dismount
and I wait with my bike
while they go in

there is a dull sun
and a wind coming across
the fields

won't you come in?
Milka's mother asks
gesturing to me
from the doorway

sure I will
I say
and walk to the house
and go into the warm kitchen

cup of tea and toast?
she asks me
the boys have gone upstairs
to change

yes that'd be nice
I say

I look about the kitchen
at the pots and pans
and shelves and cups
and the large oven range
and the table and chairs
in the corner  

sit down Benny
she says

I sit down
and she is busy
with cups and toast

I listen out to hear
if Milka is about
I watch her mother
fuss about with things
to one side

Milka about?
I ask

if she knows you're here
she'll be up
and dressed in seconds
the mother says
not turning around

I hear voices upstairs
laughter
shouts
and then Milka
come down
and into the kitchen

they said you were here
and I didn't believe them
as they are always
teasing me about you
she says

where have you been?
her mother asks

tidying my room
like you have asked me too
Milka says

about time too
never seen such a mess hole
when I was a young girl
we had to keep
our rooms tidy
the mother says

Milka pulls a face
behind her mother's back
it's done now
she moves towards me
and kisses me quickly
on the cheek

I hold her hand
and squeeze

I suppose you
want breakfast now?

yes please
Milka replies

her mother says
what do you want?

I'll get it
Milka says

she goes off to the larder
and I watch her move
her blue skirt
and white top
the buttons open
at the neck too low
(her mother would say)
the legs
the way she sways
her hips
as she walks

here you are Benny
the mother says
and hands me
a plate of buttered toast
and a cup of tea

thank you
I say

and she moves off
to the other room
and I hear her move about

Milka says
didn't know
you were coming here today?

thought you might
like to see the new Elvis film
I say

she smiles
sure if Mum'll let me
she says

she goes off
to see her mother
in the other room

I eat the toast
and sip the tea
and listen

there are hushed voices
and few sighs
then more voices

it'll be my treat
I say
I’ll treat her

Milka and her mother
come into the kitchen

it's not that
the mother says
it's just that
she's been grounded
the weekend
for misbehaviour

I look at Milka
who pouts her lips
and looks at me

I see
I say

and look at the mother
she gazes at me
and her eyes
are soft and brown

and she says
but I don't see why
you should be deprived
of her company
because of her naughtiness
she will not be allowed out
next Saturday though
she says

Milka beams
and her face lights up

and I say
thank you
I’ll have her back
in good time

the mother stares
at her daughter
and I mean about next week
she says

I know
Milka says

her mother goes off
to the other room
we kiss
and she goes off
upstairs to get ready

I finish my toast
and tea
thinking to myself
lucky me.
A BOYA ND GIRL IN 1964 AND RULES AND FREEDOM.
Terry Collett Apr 2015
Milka sits in the park.
Milka has a mood.
She stares ahead
with eyes

sharp as razors;
her hands either side
of her on the grass.
I sit beside her.

I look at her
staring ahead.
My hands are
around my knees.

Her eyes are icy;
one could freeze in them.
Nearly caught us
that time,

she says.
Nearly being
the operative word,
I say.

Her words
have an edge to them;
one could slit
a throat on them.

Her mother nearly
caught us at it.
We were in her room.
We were on her bed.

Door opening
and closing down stairs.
Kids ride by
on their bikes.

Small kids
with goofy smiles.
Milka stares at them.
Milka follows them

along the grass
with her icy eyes.
I remember her panic
in her eyes

as we heard the sounds
of her mother in the kitchen.
Milka dressing in haste.
Milka hopping

on one leg.
I dressed in a trance.
Sounds seeming nearer.
A guy walked by

with his dog.
The dog had out
a long pink tongue.
White teeth sharp

as Milka's eyes.
God knows what
if she'd caught us,
Milka says.

Mm-mm,
I say.
Laughter near by.
A group of girls

giggling like geese.
One girl wears jeans.
Her **** holds it well.
Flushed as a slapped face

Milka having dressed
waited for me
at the door of her room.
Sounds from the kitchen.

Her mother busy.
The sun warms us.
White clouds overhead.
I smell her perfume.

She breathes heavy.
Moody as blues.
The girl in tight jeans
has gone into the duck

pond area out of sight.
Milka sighs.
Milka looks at me.
I think she

believed you,
Milka says.
She does you.
Butter wouldn't

she thinks
in your mouth.
Three boys kick ball
across the way.

Milka studies me.
I look at the boys
at their game.
Tidying my room

with me,
Milka says,
she believed that
because of you

and that you said it.
It had been
a close thing.
It had been close.

My pecker stiff
in my jeans
as I spoke to her mother.
Her mother smiled.

Her mother said
it needed tidying.
I liked her mother's smile.
Warm and cosy

as a mother's love.
Cosy and warm
as a hat on a head.
Milka says,

nearly made it
in my single bed.
A BOY AND GIRL IN A SUSSEX PARK IN 1964.
Terry Collett May 2014
I had ridden back from work
that Saturday midday
with Milka's brothers
and we parked our bikes

in the farmyard
and Yaakov said
want to come in
for a coffee?

Sela said
and see Milka
while you're there
he laughed

and we all went in
the farm house
and their mother fussed
and asked me

what I would like
and treated me like a son  
and said
sit down Benny

and so I sat
and waited
for the boys
to change out

of their work clothes
I have made
a fruit cake Benny
would you like some?

their mother asked
that'd be nice
I said
and watched

as she moved
about in the kitchen
is Milka about?
I asked

she's out with her dad
they've gone to market
o ok
I said

they'll be back soon
she said
she handed me
some cake on a plate

and mug of coffee
Milka likes you
her mother said
but I told her

to take things steady
as she's only 16
and there's plenty
of time ahead of her

I looked at Milka's mother
as she fussed about
in the kitchen
putting a ***

on the stove
clearing away others
yes plenty of time
I said

trying not to think
how Milka and I
nearly got caught
in bed the other week

when I was alone
in the farmhouse
with her
she has all these fancies

about her how much
she wants children
where she wants to live
and so on

the mother said
I told her
Benny's only
a young man yet

he doesn't want
all that at his age
I ate the cake
nodded

and thought of Milka
rushing to get dressed
in her room
while her mother

talked with a farmhand
in the farmyard
or the time
at my place

one Friday
during my lunch hour
at my house
while all others

were out
she lying there
on my single bed
and I kissing her

from neck down
plenty of time
Milka's mother said
they've no sooner

left dolls behind
and they want real babies
she smiled
and I smiled

then ate the cake
and sipped the coffee
while Milka's mother
put some things away

trying to think
of other things
other than Milka lying there
completely bare.
A BOY AND A GIRL IN 1964.
Terry Collett May 2014
Milka was by the duck pond
we'd been to the cinema
to see an Elvis film
I’d bought us ice creams

and we were sitting there
getting some air
I thought my brothers
would be there

she said
they said they would
just to show me up
being with you

I watched her
as she spoke
her tongue licking
in between conversation

they just said that
to wind you up
I said
they've gone fishing

with your big brother
they always
do that to me
she said

get me wound up
that's brother for you
I said
the ducks swam

around the pond
there were geese
as well and other birds
pecking up bread

spread around
my mother almost
caught us
the other day

Milka said
that was close
I looked
at the ducks

you said your mother
would be out for ages
I said
I thought she would

Milka said
I remembered hearing
her mother
talking out

in the farmyard
to a farm hand
your mother's here
I recalled saying

to Milka as she lay
on her narrow
single bed
what O god

and she had thrown
on clothes
and cursing
under her breath

I put my jeans
back on
watching as her mother
chatted to the guy

get out
Milka said
go downstairs
make out

I’m in the loo
I just made it
as her mother
came in

the ducks swam around
I finished
my ice cream
as Milka licked away

her small tongue licking
her eyes gazing
at the swan
that had come down

large and white
swimming smooth
I kissed her neck
lips to flesh

warm and soft
and she giggled
and I loved the way
her bottom wiggled.
BOY AND GIRL BY A DUCK POND IN 1964.
Terry Collett Jul 2014
Milka's brothers and I
had been out for a few hours
and rode back on our bikes
and just as I

was about to leave
Milka came out
of the farmhouse
and wandered over to me

aren't you staying?
I watched her brothers
go into the house
I got to get back

I said
what about me?
can't we go some place?
haven't much time

I said
where you going?
cinema
to see Elvis

in some new movie
can't I come?
have you money?
no but you

could lend me some
to get in
she said
I looked back

at the farmhouse
what are you going
to say to your parents?
they will let me go

if you say I can
she said
I looked around
the fields and trees

at the rooks
in the high trees
ok
I said

and walked back
to the house
and saw her mother
at the door

and asked her
she stared at Milka
hope she hasn't
been pestering you?

she said
no I’d like her to come
I said
if that’s ok?

the mother gazed at me
then at Milka
I suppose you
want money then?

she said to Milka
no it's all right
my treat
I said

Milka's brothers
came to the door
poor old Benny
got caught

go back in boys
and leave this to me
the mother said
she gave Milka some money

and told her
to get some
decent clothes on
and I waited

in the kitchen
watching Milka's mother
make a cake
her floury fingers

hard at work
a set look
of determination
on her face

the boys had gone off
to watch TV
leaving the cake making watching
to bored young me.
BOY AND GIRL AND FIXING A DATE IN 1964.
Terry Collett Mar 2015
She stands there
at the sink

I can see
the outlines
of her bra
through her blouse
at the back

Milka's mum
is talking
about the
state of
Milka's room

complaining
never seen
such a mess

I sip tea
she's poured me

if I left
my bedroom
in that state
my mother
would have slapped
my  backside

I nibble
a Rich Tea
biscuit that
Milka's mum
offers me

I forgot
Milka says
I'll do it
after this
washing up

never seen
such a room
her mother
says again

I can see
the outline
through her skirt
of *******
(Milka's not
her mother's)
the skirt's tight
about her

I dunk in
the Rich Tea
and nibble
the soft mess

just as well
Benedict's
not seen it

(I had though
the bedroom
the small bed
untidy
littered floor)

her mum says
giving me
her soft eyes
and a smile

I try not
to red blush
or let her
see that I'd
been in the room
and had ***

I study
the large broach
she's wearing

lovely broach
I utter

Milka's dad
gave it me
her mum says

Milka turns
and her eyes
look at me
and she knows
what I know
as her face
is blushing
a bright red
about the ***
on her bed.
TEENAGE BOY AND GIRL AND HER MOTHER IN 1964.
Terry Collett Apr 2014
Are the boys in?
Benedict asked
no they've gone fishing
with their big brother

Milka said
O right
Benedict said
looking at her

standing there
in her Baby Doll
nightie
best go then

I was going
to the cinema
this afternoon
not sure

if they'll be back
in time
she said
he  looked beyond her

into the kitchen
your mum
not about?
no Dad's

taken her shopping
I’m on my own
she said
gazing at him

want to come in
for coffee or tea
or something?
she asked

no best not
he said
she expressed
disappointment

if your parents
come back
they'll put
two and two

together
and come up
with ***
he said

no they wouldn't
they would think
you'd just come
and were just going

I’ll say you came
for the boys
and had only
just found out

she said
you'd lie to them?
he said
if needs must

she said
needs?
he said
how long

have they been gone?
20 minutes
how long
will they be?

long enough
she said
he looked behind him
at his bike

by the fence
of the field
chickens were pecking
around the barn

I’ll come in
for coffee
he said
she backed in

and he followed
watching her cute ****
swaying before him
take a seat

she said
he sat on a seat
at a large oak table
strong or weak

black or white?
white strong
two sugars
she smiled

and took two mugs
down from a shelf
and prepared the coffee
in both

a radio was playing quietly
in the background
the Kinks
were being played

he noticed
she had nice legs
plumpish but neat
from ankles to ****

she poured water
into both mugs
and dripped in milk
she gave him his

and sat down
gazing at him
we have the house
to ourselves

she said
my bed
lonely upstairs
wanting company

she pouted
and pulled
a baby face  
how comes

your not dressed yet?
I seldom get dressed
till late on Saturdays
unless Mum

has a moan
Milka said
Benedict sipped
his coffee

she sipped hers
we could be doing things
she said
we are doing things

he said
we're drinking our coffees
you know what I mean
she said

he looked
at the wood stove
with logs on the floor
warmth came across

a picture hung
on a wall
by a Welsh dresser
they may not

be back for hours
she said
time enough
he mused on her words

but the image
of her parents
coming back
whilst in play

haunted him
not today
he said
your mother trusts me

Milka frowned
and sipped her coffee
shame she does
Milka said sulkily

a Beatles' song
came on the radio
I could sit on your lap
she said

the door of the kitchen
opened and her mother
came in
with shopping bags

and plonked them
on the table
O hello Benedict
come for the boys?

yes
he said
Milka made me a coffee
while I waited

good girl
she said
but still
in that silly nightie

just as well
Benedict is a good boy
or I don't know
what would have happen

my girl
Milka stared at him
as her mother
put away

the shopping
he looked innocent
as a peach
and knew now

that Milka
was out of touch
and out
of his reach.
BOY AND GIRL ONE SATURDAY IN 1964.
Terry Collett Aug 2014
Milka braves
her brothers'
teasing taunts

and gets dressed
in her room
what to wear?

she takes out
the short skirt
the red one

tries it on
does a twirl
bit too short

Mum will say
she mutters
shows too much

too much what?
she had asked
your *******

Mum had said
she takes off
the red skirt

and puts on
the knee length
orange dress

bit boring
with flowers
it will do

Mum likes it
will Benny?
he will be

coming soon
she mutters
she puts on

her stockings
and black shoes
ready now

she goes out
to show Mum
her mother

studies her
length of dress
stocking seams

straight and neat
shoes on feet
and behave

Mother says
behave what?
Milka asks

don't be smart
Mother says
I know best

what it's like
what what's like?
Milka grins

Mother stares
looks away
Benny comes

through the door
Mother smiles
dabs her hair

pulls her dress
stands *****
Benny smiles

like Elvis
Mother moans
inwardly

if only
she were young
Milka sighs

will this do?
shows Benny
the old dress

yes he says
that looks fine
Mother swoons

secretly
if only
she utters

inwardly
he was mine.
A GIRL AND BOYFRIEND AND HER MOTHER IN 1964
Terry Collett Dec 2014
Her mother
at the sink
peeling spuds

I behind
sitting there
in a chair
sipping tea
given me

radio
playing pop
some singer
singing soft

won't be long
she tells me
Milka's such
a slow girl
takes her time
at most things

(I know things
she's quick at
but don't tell
her mother)

I've told her
that you're here
Benedict
but you know
what girls are

I notice
her mother's
wide spread hips
bulging *******
beneath blouse

here she comes
she tells me

and Milka
enters in
sulky faced
arms folded

water's cold
couldn't bathe
she mutters
had to wash
using cold

no matter
Mother says
you're ok
fire's relit
be hot soon

too late now
Milka says
moodily

never mind
Mother says
Benedict
is here now

so we go
out the door
Milka's hand
searching mine
small and warm
heart thumping
mood a storm.
BOY AND ******* A DATE IN 1964.
Terry Collett Oct 2014
She won't be long
Milka's mother said
she's just having a bath

I sat in the kitchen
of the farmhouse
a mug of tea
in front of me

that's OK no rush
I said
the film doesn't start  
yet a while

what are you seeing?

an Elvis film
I said

O I see
in my day
it was Robert Taylor
or Robert Mitchum
she said smiling
not that I went often
but now and then

she turned around
at the sink
and started peeling potatoes

I looked at photographs
on the shelves
one of the my mates
Milka's brothers
another of Milka
in a school uniform
frowning

Milka's mother was talking
about something
but I was thinking
of Milka
how she and I
made love at my place
when my parents
were out
the other week

now she was upstairs
in the bath
and I was downstairs
listening to her mother talking

you know Benny
she said
I trust you with Milka
she's a bit high spirited

but you are a good boy
I know you will keep her
on the straight and narrow
despite Elvis
she turned
and gazed at me

I put on
my butter wouldn't melt face
and sipped my tea

yes
I said
you can put
your trust in me
I won't let you down

I gazed at the photo
of Milka
with the deep frown.
A BOY AND HIS GIRLFRIEND'S MOTHER IN 1964.
Terry Collett Mar 2014
Milka touched
Benedict
on the arm

her fingers
running down
to his hand

Benedict
touched Milka
on her thigh

his fingers
running up
to her ***

their lips met
hot kisses
wet tonguing

both eyes closed
his fingers
making play

her fingers
tickling
his open palm

she thinking
dream like things
wedding bells

wedding rings
he thinking
fingers warm

entering
opened her
like flower

in spring time
her beauty
undone him

****** him dry
she asked him
her questions

like girls do
he answered
one word why?
BOY AND GIRL IN 1964.
Terry Collett May 2015
Milka's mother
makes me
a cup of tea
as I wait for Milka
downstairs.

She'll not be long,
her mother says,
although don't
hold your breath,
Benny,
she adds,
smiling.

I like her smile;
it's like warm milk
of a motherly kind.

I sip the tea,
looking as her mother
walks from the sink
to the cupboard;
her plump body
cosy as a cat's
snuggled up close,
her backside swaying
like waves of water.

She doesn't deserve you,
her mother says,
giving me
a brief glance,
you are so patient
with her,
waiting for her,
doing things for her.

I recall Milka
dressing madly,
after the last
*** episode,
and her mother
downstairs,
having returned
from shopping early,
Milka flushed,
and I,
well, I was
in a trance,
dressing as fast
as I could,
thinking of reasons
to be in Milka's room.  

Would you like something
with the tea?
The mother asks,
looking at me,
her eyes searching me.

I try not to say
what's on my mind
and say,
a biscuit would be nice.

She smiles and goes
and fetches the biscuit tin
and opens it for me.

Help yourself,
she says.

She has very nice *******,
I note,
not staring,
but noticing as
she nears me.

I nibble and sip.

Milka is upstairs
getting ready
to go out,
taking her time,
while her mother
seduces me,
unwittingly.

I smile.

Is that,
I muse,
a crime?
A BOY AND HIS GIRLFRIEND'S MOTHER 1964.
Terry Collett Jan 2015
The smell of
fresh coffee
and bacon

Milka's mum
opposite
drinking tea

her dark eyes
focusing
on young me

won't be long
she tells me
but she likes

her warm bed
and mornings
are not her

favourite
time of day
(I knew that

Milka liked
her warm bed
I’d been there

unbeknown
to her mum)
want some toast?

Or more coffee?
No I’m fine
I reply

listening
for movement
of Milka

from upstairs
I recall
her small bed

us in there
(her parents
had gone out

to the shops
her brothers
and my friends

gone fishing)
us warm there
making love

listening
to the bed
for a car

returning
birds singing
cows mooing

from a field
what’s it like
with Milka?

Her mother
inquires
O it's good

(she's broken
my thought chain)
she can be

a handful
don't you find?
Yes she can

I reply
seeing my
reflection

in her left
and right eye.
A BOY AND HIS GIRLFRIEND'S MOTHER IN 1964
A PLAY


BY



ALEXANDER   K   OPICHO









THE CASTE
1. Chenje – Old man, father of Namugugu
2. Namugugu – Son of Chenje
3. Nanyuli – daughter of Lusaaka
4. Lusaaka – Old man, father of Nanyuli
5. Kulecho – wife of Lusaaka
6. Kuloba – wife of Chenje
7. Paulina – Old woman, neighbour to Chenje.
8. Child I, II and III – Nanyuli’s children
9. Policeman I, II and III
10. Mourners
11. Wangwe – a widowed village pastor

















ACTING HISTORY
This play was acted two times, on 25th and 26th December 2004 at Bokoli Roman Catholic Church, in Bokoli sub- location of Bungoma County in the western province of Kenya. The persons who acted and their respective roles are as below;

Wenani Kilong –stage director
Alexander k Opicho – Namugugu
Judith Sipapali Mutivoko- Nanyuli
Saul Sampaza Mazika Khayongo- Wangwe
Paul Lenin Maondo- Lusaaka
Peter Wajilontelela-  Chenje
Agnes Injila -  Kulecho
Beverline Kilobi- Paulina
Milka Molola Kitayi- Kuloba
Then mourners, children and police men changed roles often. This play was successfully stage performed and stunned the community audience to the helm.













PLOT
Language use in this play is not based on Standard English grammar, but is flexed to mirror social behaviour and actual life as well as assumptions of the people of Bokoli village in Bungoma district now Bungoma County in Western province of Kenya.

























ACT ONE
Scene One

This scene is set in Bokoli village of Western Kenya. In Chenje’s peasant hut, the mood is sombre. Chenje is busy thrashing lice from his old long trouser Kuloba, sitting on a short stool looking on.

Chenje: (thrashing a louse) these things are stubborn! The lice. You **** all of them today, and then tomorrow they are all-over. I hate them.
Kuloba: (sending out a cloud of smoke through her tobacco laden pipe). Nowadays I am tired. I have left them to do to me whatever they want (coughs) I killed them they were all over in my skirt.
Chenje: (looking straight at Kuloba) Do you know that they are significant?
Kuloba: What do they signify?
Chenje: Death
Kuloba: Now, who will die in this home? I have only one son. Let them stop their menace.
Chenje: I remember in 1968, two months that preceded my father’s death, they were all over. The lice were in every of my piece of clothes. Even the hat, handkerchief. I tell you what not!
Kuloba: (nodding), Yaa! I remember it very well my mzee, I had been married for about two years by then.
Chenje: Was it two years?
Kuloba: (assuringly) yes, (spots a cockroach on the floor goes at it and crushes it with her finger, then coughs with heavy sound) we had stayed together in a marriage for two years. That was when people had began back-biting me that I was barren. We did not have a child. We even also had the jiggers. I can still remember.
Chenje: Exactly (crashes a louse with his finger) we also had jiggers on our feet.
Kuloba: The jiggers are very troublesome. Even more than the lice and weevils.  
Chenje: But, the lice and jiggers, whenever they infest one’s home, they usually signify impending death of a family member.
Kuloba: Let them fail in Christ’s name. Because no one is ripe for death in this home. I have lost my five children. I only have one child. My son Namugugu – death let it fail. My son has to grow and have a family also like children of other people in this village. Let whoever that is practicing evil machinations against my family, my only child fail.
Chenje: (putting on the long-trouser from which he had been crushing lice) let others remain; I will **** them another time.
Kuloba: You will never finish them (giggles)
Chenje: You have reminded me, where is Namugugu today? I have not seen him.
Kuloba: He was here some while ago.
Chenje: (spitting out through an open window) He has become of an age. He is supposed to get married so that he can bear grand children for me. Had I the grand children they could even assist me to **** lice from my clothes. (Enters Namugugu) Come in boy, I want to talk to you.
Kuloba: (jokingly) you better give someone food, or anything to fill the stomach before you engages him in a talk.
Namugugu: (looks, at both Chenje and Kuloba, searchingly then goes for a chair next to him)
Mama! I am very hungry if you talk of feeding me, I really get thrilled (sits at a fold-chair, it breaks sending him down in a sprawl).
Kuloba: (exclaims) wooo! Sorry my son. This chair wants to **** (helps him up)
Namugugu: (waving his bleeding hand as he gets up) it has injured my hand. Too bad!
Chenje: (looking on) Sorry! Dress your finger with a piece of old clothes, to stop that blood oozing out.
Namugugu: (writhing in pain) No it was not a deep cut. It will soon stop bleeding even without a piece of rag.
Kuloba: (to Namugugu) let it be so. (Stands) let me go to my sweet potato field. There are some vivies, I have not harvested, I can get there some roots for our lunch (exits)
Chenje: (to Namugugu) my son even if you have injured your finger, but that will not prevent me from telling you what I am supposed to.
Namugugu: (with attention) yes.
Chenje: (pointing) sit to this other chair, it is safer than that one of yours.
Namugugu: (changing the chair) Thank you.
Chenje: You are now a big person. You are no longer an infant. I want you to come up with your own home. Look for a girl to marry. Don’t wait to grow more than here. The two years you have been in Nairobi, were really wasted. You could have been married, may you would now be having my two grand sons as per today.
Namugugu: Father I don’t refuse. But how can I marry and start up a family in a situation of extreme poverty? Do you want me to start a family with even nothing to eat?
Chenje: My son, you will be safer when you are a married beggar than a wife- less rich-man. No one is more exposed as a man without a wife.
Namugugu: (looking down) father it is true but not realistic.
Chenje: How?
Namugugu: All women tend to flock after a rich man.
Chenje: (laughs) my son, may be you don’t know. Let me tell you. One time you will remember, maybe I will be already dead by then. Look here, all riches flock after married men, all powers of darkness flock after married men and even all poverty flock after married. So, it is just a matter of living your life.
(Curtains)
SCENE TWO

Around Chenje’s hut, Kuloba and Namugugu are inside the hut; Chenje is out under the eaves. He is dropping at them.
Namugugu: Mama! Papa wants to drive wind of sadness permanently into my sail of life. He is always pressurizing me to get married at such a time when I totally have nothing. No food, no house no everything. Mama let me actually ask you; is it possible to get married in such a situation?
Kuloba: (Looking out if there is any one, but did not spot the eaves-dropping Chenje).
Forget. Marriage is not a Whiff of aroma. My son, try marriage in poverty and you will see.
Namugugu: (Emotionally) Now, if Papa knows that I will not have a happy married life, in such a situation, where I don’t have anything to support myself; then why is he singing for my marriage?
Kuloba: (gesticulating) He wants to mess you up the way he messed me up. He married me into his poverty. I have wasted away a whole of my life in his poverty. I regret. You! (Pointing) my son, never make a mistake of neither repeating nor replicating poverty of this home into your future through blind marriage.
Namugugu: (Approvingly) yes Mama, I get you.

Kuloba: (Assertively) moreover, you are the only offspring of my womb             (touching her stomach) I have never eaten anything from you. You have never bought me anything even a headscarf alone. Now, if you start with a wife will I ever benefit anything from you?
Namugugu: (looking agog) indeed Mama.
Kuloba: (commandingly) don’t marry! Women are very many. You can marry at any age, any time or even any place. But it is very good to remember child-price paid by your mother in bringing you up. As a man my son, you have to put it before all other things in your life.
Namugugu: (in an affirmative feat) yes Mama.
Kuloba: It is not easy to bring up a child up to an age when in poverty. As a mother you really suffer. I’ve suffered indeed to bring you up. Your father has never been able to put food on the table. It has been my burden through out. So my son, pleased before you go for women remember that!
Namugugu: Yes Mama, I will.
(Enters Chenje)
Chenje: (to Kuloba) you old wizard headed woman! Why do you want to put    my home to a full stop?
Kuloba: (shy) why? You mean you were not away? (Goes out behaving shyly)

Chenje: (in anger to Namugugu) you must become a man! Why do you give your ears to such toxic conversations? Your mother is wrong. Whatever she has told you today is pure lies. It is her laziness that made her poor. She is very wrong to festoon me in any blame…. I want you to think excellently as a man now. Avoid her tricky influence and get married. I have told you finally and I will never repeat telling you again.

Namugugu: (in a feat of shyness) But Papa, you are just exploding for no good reason, Mama has told me nothing bad……………………
Chenje: (Awfully) shut up! You old ox. Remove your ears from poisonous mouths of old women!
(Enters Nanyuli with an old green paper bag in her hand. Its contents were bulging).
Nanyuli: (knocking) Hodii! Hodii!
Chenje: (calmly) come in my daughter! Come in.
Nanyuli: (entering) thank you.
Chenje: (to Namugugu) give the chair to our visitor.
Namugugu: (shyly, paving Nanyuli to sit) Karibu, have a sit please.
Nanyuli: (swinging girlishly) I will not sit me I am in a hurry.
Chenje: (to Nanyuli) just sit for a little moment my daughter. Kindly sit.
Nanyuli: (sitting, putting a paper-bag on her laps) where is the grandmother who is usually in this house?
Chenje: Who?
Nanyuli: Kuloba, the old grandmother.
Namugugu: She has just briefly gone out.
Chenje: (to Nanyuli) she has gone to the potato field and Cassava field to look for some roots for our lunch.
Nanyuli: Hmm. She will get.
Chenje: Yes, it is also our prayer. Because we’re very hungry.
Nanyuli: I am sure she will get.
Chenje: (to Nanyuli) excuse me my daughter; tell me who your father is?
Nanyuli: (shyly) you mean you don’t know me? And me I know you.
Chenje: Yes I don’t know you. Also my eyes have grown old, unless you remind
me, I may not easily know you.
Nanyuli: I am Lusaaka’s daughter
Chenje: Eh! Which Lusaka? The one with a brown wife? I don’t know… her name is Kulecho?
Nanyuli: Yes
Chenje: That brown old-mother is your mother?
Nanyuli: Yes, she is my mother. I am her first – born.
Chenje: Ooh! This is good (goes forward to greet her) shake my fore-limb my
daughter.

Nanyuli: (shaking Chenje’s hand) Thank you.
Chenje: I don’t know if your father has ever told you. I was circumcised the same year with your grand-gather. In fact we were cut by the same knife. I mean we shared the same circumciser.
Nanyuli: No, he has not yet. You know he is always at school. He never stays at home.
Chenje: That is true. I know him, he teaches at our mission primary school at Bokoli market.
Nanyuli: Yes.
Chenje: What is your name my daughter?
Nanyuli: My name is Loisy Nanyuli Lusaaka.
Chenje: Very good. They are pretty names. Loisy is a Catholic baptismal name, Nanyuli is our Bukusu tribal name meaning wife of an iron-smith and Lusaaka is your father’s name.
Nanyuli: (laughs) But I am not a Catholic. We used to go to Catholic Church upto last year December. But we are now born again, saved children of God. Fellowshipping with the Church of Holy Mountain of Jesus christ. It is at Bokoli market.
Chenje: Good, my daughter, in fact when I will happen to meet with your father, or even your mother the brown lady, I will comment them for having brought you up under the arm of God.
Nanyuli: Thank you; or even you can as well come to our home one day.
Chenje: (laughs) actually, I will come.
Nanyuli: Now, I want to go
Chenje: But you have not stayed for long. Let us talk a little more my daughter.
Nanyuli: No, I will not. I had just brought some tea leaves for Kuloba the old grandmother.
Chenje: Ooh! Who gave you the tea leaves?
Nanyuli: I do hawk tea leaves door to door. I met her last time and she requested me to bring her some. So I want to give them to you (pointing at Namugugu) so that you can give them to her when she comes.
Namugugu: No problem. I will.
Nanyuli: (takes out a tumbler from the paper bag, fills the tumbler twice, pours the tea leaves  into an old piece of  newspaper, folds and gives  it to Namugugu) you will give them to grandmother, Kuloba.
Namugugu: (taking) thank you.
Chenje: My daughter, how much is a tumbler full of tea leaves, I mean when it is full?
Nanyuli: Ten shillings of Kenya
Chenje: My daughter, your price is good. Not like others.
Nanyuli: Thank you.
Namugugu: (To Nanyuli) What about money, she gave you already?
Nanyuli: No, but tell her that any day I may come for it.
Namugugu: Ok, I will not forget to tell her
Nanyuli: I am thankful. Let me go, we shall meet another day.
Chenje: Yes my daughter, pass my regards to your father.
Nanyuli: Yes I will (goes out)
Chenje: (Biting his finger) I wish I was a boy. Such a good woman would never slip through my fingers.
Chenje: But father she is already a tea leaves vendor!
(CURTAINS)


SCENE THREE
Nanyuli and Kulecho in a common room Nanyuli and Kulecho are standing at the table, Nanyuli is often suspecting a blow from Kulecho, counting coins from sale of tea leaves; Lusaaka is sited at couch taking a coffee from a ceramic red kettle.


Kulecho: (to Nanyuli) these monies are not balancing with your stock. It is like you have sold more tea leaves but you have less money. This is only seventy five shillings. When it is supposed to be one hundred and fifty. Because you sold fifteen tumblers you are only left with five tumblers.
Nanyuli: (Fidgeting) this is the whole money I have, everything I collected from sales is here.
Kulecho: (heatedly) be serious, you stupid woman! How can you sell everything and am not seeing any money?
Nanyuli: Mama, this is the whole money I have, I have not taken your money anywhere.
Kulecho: You have not taken the money anywhere! Then where is it? Do you know that I am going to slap you!
Nanyuli: (shaking) forgive me Mama
Kulecho: Then speak the truth before you are forgiven. Where is the money you collected from tea leaves sales?
Nanyuli: (in a feat of shyness) some I bought a short trouser for my child.
Kulecho: (very violent) after whose permission? You old cow, after whose permission (slaps Nanyuli with her whole mighty) Talk out!
Nanyuli: (Sobbingly) forgive me mother, I thought you would understand. That is why I bought a trouser for my son with your money!
Lusaaka: (shouting a cup of coffee in his hand, standing charged) teach her a lesson, slap her again!
Kulecho (slaps, Nanyuli continuously, some times ******* her cheeks, as Nanyuli wails) Give me my money! Give me my money! Give me my money! Give me my money! You lousy, irresponsible Con-woman (clicks)
Lusaaka: Are you tired, kick the *** out of that woman (inveighs a slap towards Nanyuli) I can slap you!
Nanyuli: (kneeling, bowedly, carrying up her hands) forgive me father, I will never repeat that mistake again (sobs)
Lusaaka: An in-corrigible, ****!
Kulecho: (to Nanyuli) You! Useless heap of human flesh. I very much regret to have sired a sell-out of your type. It is very painful for you to be a first offspring of my womb.
I curse my womb because of you. You have ever betrayed me. I took you to school you were never thankful, instead you became pregnant. You were fertilized in the bush by peasant boys.
You have given birth to three childlings, from three different fathers! You do it in my home. What a shame! Your father is a teacher, how have you made him a laughing stock among his colleagues, teachers? I have become sympathetic to you by putting you into business. I have given you tea leaves to sell. A very noble occupation for a wretch like you. You only go out sell tea leaves and put the money in your wolfish stomach. Nanyuli! Why do you always act like this?
Nanyuli: (sobbing) Forgive me mother. Some tea leaves I sold on credit. I will come with the money today?
Kulecho: You sold on credit?
Nanyuli: Yes
Kul
this is a manuscript of a play, please guys help me get any publisher who can do publishing of this play
i  will appreciate. thanks
Najwa Kareem Aug 2017
Ramadan 2017 in Sarajevo, Bosnia                      

The first day and the second

What a blessing!!!

Brothers and Sisters in the Old Town speaking the words Salamu Alaikum

Sisters wearing veils with colors like in the bright rainbow appearing before me and my two new friends from Bosnia in a sky above a bussling bazaar, there a smaller group of humans watching and a larger group of tourists capturing a rare moment in Sarajevo on photo

Many brothers wearing kufis and many brothers with trendy hair styles paired with Western outfits gathering in the courtyard of Gazi Husrev-Bey Mosque, the largest in Bosnia and sixteen centuries old. Tourists from Africa, America, Europe, and other landscapes and many locals exchanging words and gestures in a month better than a thousand

Families spending time together at the Grand Mosque and at smaller mosques and in other places surrounded by picturesque hills and green plush trees

A father, a mother, their toddler son...he practicing walking on a masjid's cobblestone, and their young daughter...she smiling at her father as he walks by. Each family member physically at a distance from each other. Each family member at a cell's distance in communion with each other.

In the mid afternoon on a Ramadan's day, a sister from Munich and I having met for the first time at Bey Mosque ride together in a taxi up a steep hill to see a guest house she knows

A smell of lingering cigarette smoke permeating the air within the house so thick beckons me to leave politely and quickly. Unaware of the smell's degree, the owner learns of its' offensiveness as I disclose my sensitivity to & the dislike of the smell of cigarette smoke, both acutely heightened while fasting

Careful steps back down the steep hill to the city center, me avoiding stumbling on a large rock or being runover by a speeding automobile, interestingly instead I stumble upon a beautiful grave yard of uniquely shaped white gravestones and a charming mosque with a high minaret

At the bottom of the hill sits a crafts and artistry shop, one of many in Sarajevo's Old Town. Upon entering and a brief conversation with the owner, a piece of generosity is handed to me, a square shape piece of wood with Ayat tul Kursi in hand calligraphy

During the late afternoon hours, a time for reading Quran by many at mosques in the city. Sisters and brothers sitting on carpeted floors, some with backs supported by mosque walls, some with bodies sitting in chairs, fasters occupied with the most perfected Divine Scripture

A brief leisurely stroll with my two new friends Dzenita and her sister Amina through part of the Bazaar, they sharing opinions of their favorite restaurants, best eating experiences, and other things

In the early evening, a time to buy food to prepare for the Iftar meal. Showing me how it's done in Sarajevo, Dzenita and Amina invite me to join them on an excursion up a hill to buy Somun, a Bosnian flatbread topped with black seeds from the city's famous bread maker. Standing in a line longer than Georgetown Cupcake, Dzenita surprises me with a gift of Somun for myself

Two dates, one cube of Bosnian delight, and one cup of water to break our fast with at the Bey Mosque. A canon bomb sounds off to announce the time for Magrib prayer and Iftar, customary in Sarajevo during Ramadan

Startled and alerted by the bomb's depth and volume, I stand up to join the congregation for communion with God, The God Most Gracious, Most High

Out of nowhere I'm invited to Iftar at a shop nearby the Grand Mosque, about 8 of us guests being served by the warm owner, she offering a meal for Iftar at her shop every night during Ramadan, a big-hearted tradition of hers

Cevapi, Cevapi, Cevapi...I'll say it once more, Cevapi -- sold in Bosnian restaurants, cafes, bazaars, and made in many homes, eaten happily by many fasters at Iftar. Served with freshly chopped onions, some served with a soft white cheese, some with a red peppery sauce, many served with Somun, all ways tried by me and tasting as scrumptious as my first experience with Cevapi in Germany, then falling in love with it

Cold winds at night from the surrounding mountains, a refreshing air yet taking my breath and power away from the chill of it, completely disappearing with my start of Isha prayer with other Muslims and the declaration "Allah hu Akbar"

9 Muftis with impeccable Tajweed each taking turns to recite the words of our Grand Lord before sunrise, me weeping from God's messages, the reality of His greatness, my servitude to Him, and a recognition of sounds similar to that of my Mumin Father's, those familiar to me since birth

Three dear sisters, university students from Turkey and I journey together on foot after Fajr from the Old Mosque to a street train, along the way stopping by a community center, our destination - their home an hour or so away to rest, the four of us coming to know each other and each others' thoughts with every step. Contempleting my desire to spend more time in the city over sleep, the three sisters showing great generosity and I embrace and exchange Salams at a stop near the main station, the three walking with me to an open place before continuing on

In the land of a marriage between the East and the West and where newspaper is used to clean a cafe window, on the list of to-dos -- shopping for gifts for family and for souvenirs, window shopping done along the way, asking myself Shall I buy a Dzezva, a hand-made Bosnian coffee set, or a vintage wood Sarajevo box, or a woven wallet, or Bosnian sweets.

In a bazaar walkway, Maher Zain's song "Ramadan" playing loudly. At another moment, lyrics about a month of devotion and sacrifice from Sami Yusuf echoeing. Shop owners in Old Town with dispositions of calm and quiet grace greeting me and others cordially and respectfully. Shopping a few hours more until near sunset for post cards with a real version of the Grand Mosque, finding only less than satisfactory versions. Time running out for shopping, another reason now to return to Bosnia, God-Willing

Magrib prayer a second night at the Gazi Husrev-Bey Mosque. Observing the crowd, a striking occurrence taking place, a teenage boy walking a small length behind a man on to the mosque carpet. There the boy approaches an older man giving him a respectful hand shake. After prayer, a native of Sarajevo shares with me in wholesome conversation, "You are known in the town not by what you have. You are known by how well you behave."

Another invitation, this time for a cup of a tea at a cafe. Overflowing with people mostly young adults, men and women sitting at tightly packed small tables inside and a few outside, conversations merging into each other with a loud volume flowing throughout, Shisha being smoked by some, cigarettes by some, smoke in the air and the temperature inside melting away heavy make-up on sisters' faces. "This is Ramadan in Sarajevo." Madia says. "One aspect of it." says I. Not having a good feeling right away when walking in and not wanting to stay, the two of us leave quickly.

My two new friends Dzenita and Amina aka angels of hospitality and kindness reciprocating my gift to them of Milka chocolate give me a gift before departing the next day. "Tespih!!" A burnt red and yellow colored set with sparkingly gold thinly cut wrapping paper looking stripes purchased at the Gazi Husrev-Bey Mosque gift shop. Not knowing then I collect Tesbih, their gift is now my most favorite of my Tesbih collection

Husbands and wives, men and women both young and old, well-groomed and well-dressed, some holding hands as they stroll through narrow pathways in the Old Town on a Ramadan's night. Families talking and eating at restaurants, friends in groups sharing laughs, so much to see, so much to experience. At a cafe where baked goods, ice cream, and other sweets are sold, a lady sitting with a group of others initiates speaking to me, stopping me in my tracks. Bidding me farewell, she extends me a gracious compliment

Ramadan 2017 in Sarajevo, Bosnia to Remember

The first day and the second

What a blessing!!!

by Najwa Kareem
Terry Collett Sep 2014
We'd been for a bike ride
along country lanes
and lay for a while
in some field
looking at the sky
and clouds
and making out
what cloud formations
we could see

that's a dog begging
Milka said
pointing skyward

I looked at her finger
pointing up
the hand small
the finger fragile

could be I guess
I said

that one looks
like Punch
of the Punch and Judy puppets
she said

I let her go on
with her suggestions
agreeing or not
as the case was

it was being close to her
in the open air
that got to me
her arm near me
her body
a mere few inches away
the short green skirt
the white blouse
the impression
of her bra
indicated there

perfume reaching me
as she moved
(her mother's
most probably)  

birds flew overhead
as we watched the clouds

we lay out bikes
against the fence
of her father's farmhouse
and stood looking
at each other

it was a good ride
she said
I liked how we lay
in the field and cloud watched

yes it was good
I said

thank you Benny
she said

where are your brothers?

gone out I suppose
she said
did you want them?

they said we might
go see a film
I said

what film is that?

an Elvis film

she nodded
you could always take me
she said
her head leaning
to one side
her eyes gazing at me

would your mother
let you go?

Milka looked uncertain
I could ask
she said

another time maybe
I said

the last time
I had taken Milka
her mother had let her go
on the understanding
that she be grounded
for a week afterwards
(she had done something wrong
and her mother
only let her go with me
out of consideration
for me not Milka)

OK she said
she went quiet
looked at the farmhouse

best go in then
I said I wouldn't be long
she said
kissing my cheek

she walked off
towards the farmhouse
her cute **** swaying

I sighed knowing
I’d not see her
for another week.
A BOYA ND GIRL AFTER A BIKE RIDE IN 1964.
Terry Collett Jun 2015
We sit by the river
on the grassy bank
our bikes parked by trees

Milka says
no ***
Auntie Flo's come

I look at the water
who's she?
I say

she looks at me darkly
my bad week
she says

I look at her
is that why you
were so long
coming down
this morning
while your mother
was giving me
the works?

What do you mean
the works?
She says moodily

you know
tea and biscuits
offering me stuff
being nice
talking warmly
walking quite seductively
across the room
I say

so while I was having
to bathe myself clean
and stuff
she was coming on
to you?

That's a bit strong
just being nice to me
I reply

she fancies you I bet
if she wasn't
so ancient
she'd be at your door
Milka says

jealous of
your mother?
I say  

no annoyed that she
has the nerve
and with you
for encouraging her
you should take pity
on her not
encourage her
Milka says

she pouts her lips
and stares ahead
at the flowing river

I just sat there
didn't have to
encourage her
the tea was nice
and the biscuits
quite scrumptious
I say

aren't I nice
and scrumptious?
She asks
turning and gazing
at me

shame about Auntie
I say
and it is such
a lovely day
and the grass
is quite tall over there
and well that's it
I guess

yes it is
she says
so make the most
of me as I am
and be nice

she kisses me
and we lay down
on the grass
and make the most
of what we have
and curse Auntie's arrival
and she thinks
of what may have been
and I think of her
and try to keep
my thoughts
quite clean.
A BOY AND GIRL BY A RIVER IN 1964.

— The End —