AFRICAN VIBE
"No! I say that the cockerel must be slaughtered. It shall not live to see the sun of tomorrow. My house is the guardian of culture and tradition, and as the headman, I decree here and now, that the cock must go! It is profoundly insane and unheard of in our land that a cock crows in the hours of nyachieni [the devil] and it is let free to see the beige rays of the morning sun. May our fore fathers unleash tenfold of dry thunder upon they that do not heed the customary way of life that they set!" That was my old man on the Christmas eve of 2005. Simple and casual as he was, with a long Africa shuka strewn all through his frail-looking but yet strong body stature and an oversize pair of traditional flip flops, Mzee Yimbo was still the de jure leader of the household. He was the head. And so as such, his word was law. Any deterrence from his decree was bound to attract an inevitable terrible punishment, or even banishment from his home; at least according to the inform...