Geoffrey Kerosi close shaves. Two dreadful events in my life. Actually there is a third event which I won’t cover here due to lack of space and time.
I remember one hot afternoon in 1999 when I was out grazing my father’s cows at a nearby stream in our rural village Nyangorora. I was in standard seven at our village school. Grazing livestock was a compulsory chore for most village boys especially during weekends, evenings of weekdays and school holidays. In our household, one other thing was compulsory: going to school every day without fail unless you had a genuine reason. My father Joseph prohibited us from loitering around the village.
On this particular day I was feeling unwell. I had a severe headache which made me lie down under the shade of the majestic blue gum trees on Charara River bank. Despite having a severe headache, I was watching the cows grazing. This was necessary to make sure they do not invade nearby maize farms for greener pasture. The headache was so severe but I felt better when lying on the ground flat with my head resting on the green grass and having my eyes closed.
After a few hours of suffering and with my eyes closed out of pain, I heard a strange noise like that of something sliding on the dry leaves. Danger was on the horizon on this particular day. I opened my eyes and turned my face towards the source of noise and was shocked: a huge snake was slithering towards me at my head level. Had I been deep asleep it would have probably bitten my head or neck. Some friends told me that the snake would have slide over me and disappear into the bush without bitting me if I stayed still. If a snake does not feel threatened, I won’t bite.
Thanks to the dry leaves. May they live for ever! May the generation of dry leaves always be there to save others from danger. I’m truly indebted to dry leaves. If it were not for the dry leaves of the blue gum trees I wouldn’t be here to narrate my story on this 39th birthday!
On that specific moment I sprung like a loose canon and splint across the field, jumped over Charara River and found myself in the neighbouring village. Upon landing on the other side of the river in reeds, my heart was pumping fast. I was out of breath but glad that I was alive and standing at a safe distance from the passing snake. It was a close shave.
That day I dashed away like an antelope escaping the deadly leopard. I was surprised on how fast I forgot that I was sick. In fact, I did not feel the headache until several moments later when I was at a safe distance from the reptile. The entire process of rushing from my sleeping position to jumping across the stream took nano-seconds. This is the fastest I have been in my entire 39 years.
Standing in the midst of reeds (tall grass which grow on wetlands- esasati), I stood still and confused. I was unable to think clearly out of shock. My hands and legs were shaking and I was sweating profusely. I was wondering what might have happened had I not escaped. Ni Sir God tu!
After something like five minutes of confusion I gathered my courage, looked for a large stick and started looking for the serpent. I promised myself that it must meet its Waterloo on the Charara River banks. I was ready to commit a massacre. I was determined to decimate the serpent by crashing its head as the Bible directs us. I saw it disappearing into the bush and rocks. That experience taught me to be vigilant and aware of my environment.
My second encounter with another serpent was a decade later in 2009. This time round it was not as dramatic as the above encounter. On this particular occasion, it was a few months before the national census exercise. I travelled to Rigoma to apply for jobs as an enumerator. During those days most of the trips in the village were undertaken on foot. It’s quite a distance from my home village to Rigoma Divisional Headquarters. Two – three hours walking.
I was in the company of my friends but out of the whole delegation I was with a lady from a neighbouring village. We were chatting as we walked up hill. We were immersed in our own stories.
It seems that we were walking unaware of what was happening around us. We’d reached a rural village which was mid-way to our home village. Can’t name the village here to protect the reputation of its inhabitants. Then suddenly, as we made a step together up the hill, we nearly stepped on a huge black python. The serpent was crossing the footpath from one homestead to the neighbouring field. It was so large that its length had covered the width of the footpath which was approximately two meters and its tail and head were on the opposite sides of the two live fences which defined the footpath.
We quickly stepped back and waited for a few minutes to make sure it has crossed the footpath and it was safe for us to continue with our journey home. At this point, I did not even think of killing the snake because I was shocked by its large size. Secondly, the fact that it was crossing from a homestead to a field, I suspected it might be someone’s pet. Yes. Even if I had the means and ways of killing it. I was too shocked how a snake could come out of someone’s compound at the middle of the day. Maybe it was hunting for rats and other rodents. We decided to mind our business.
On making a few steps up the hill along the homestead we peeped through the live fence and raised our concerns for the safety of the old woman who was seen sunbathing outside her house. We asked her to BEWARE of the huge python. Mistake. Our early warning was not welcome. The elderly woman who admonished us by saying “you kids shut up, there is no snake here!” At that point we started doubting everything we saw. Was it a nightmare? But would a nightmare or bad dream happen to both of us while we were clearly walking up the hill?
Later on, during my days as a student at Kenyatta University studying Economics and Statistics, one of the compulsory units we took was critical thinking. Dr. Tom Destiny Namwamba, encouraged us to doubt everything. Doubt. I now doubt the snake. It might have been a dream. It was one Rene Descartes who came up with the method of doubt in the field of Philosophy. He doubted all his beliefs in order to establish which ones are true. He even doubted his own existence but later concluded that “I think, therefore I am,” I have a voluminous book on Western Philosophy which you can borrow if you know me personally. It will enrich your philosophy and enable you doubt everything which you are reading now.
Back to our python story. After the old woman admonished us for spreading “unfounded rumours and propaganda” about a python near her home, I started doubting everything! This must have been a bad dream.
That was a polite way of being told to mind our own business and stop poking our noses into people’s affairs. We obeyed and moved on. We concluded that we had nothing to lose. We continued marching up hill towards our home village. We saw nothing. We heard nothing!
Geoffrey Kerosi is a blogger, SEO expert, content creator, YouTuber and public policy analyst based in Nairobi, Kenya. Read more stories on his website: www.kerosi.com
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