Thread by @_eliaschirchir

My kalenjin sisters are raised to trust people. They have grown up seeing their mothers feed hungry strangers and passers by. Even a mad man walking into a kalenjin compound will get food. They have

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been raised to respect men and regard every man the age of their father as a father. And kalenjin men are equaly raised to place women and children in same category as "children". Sometime our woke girls hate to be reffered to as such. They feel demeaned and belittled. But wait

Our forefathers had a reason for this. My grandfather said women and children are naturally special. They should be taken care of , fed, clothed and given special treatment. They are part of your children. When her father hands over her to you, she is handing over a child to you.

His brother puts oil on her forehead as a mark of innocence and good faith. He does the same to the man. To transfer responsibility. You are to make her your wife but treat her as your child. Special.

When kalenjin men meet, they first ask each other "amunee lagok" how are the children? A man who is worth his name is expected to prioritise his children.

We digress.

Dear Kalenjin sisters not every man out there is like us. They didn't go to the bush for a whole month and came home after a rigorous programme that would never be revealed not even by a mad man. Not even at gun point.

They didn't get the teachings about why you remain our "children" forever. Once in a while we may hurt you. But we will rarely kill you and drop you by the roadside.

We understand your frustrations about us not being romantic. That we value a herd of cows than a Mazda Demio for

your birthday. We may not show up for baby showers. We may never take you to the coast and take a photo against that baby bum.We fall short of your expectation. Maybe our dress code in campus is rag tag. Maybe unappealing. Maybe we miss a few words in pronunciation and once in a

while even when we try saying "babe" you only hear an embarrassing "pepis"

We may not be good at coffee dates and gender reveal parties. Maybe its the 30 days in the bush. Maybe it's how we saw our fathers treat your mothers

Devoid of romance and the love language that is the norm these days, we are still your brothers.Devoid of the kneeling down to propose and avail flowers on valentines,We still love you.We still remember how the village came carrying firewood and milk in bottles when you were born

We will meet in the city and get excited when we see that natural beauty. It doesn't matter that you would be entertaining a stranger across the table. Sometimes you don't even want to say hi because tunaeza choma.

But now, dear sisters, they are not like us. Don't show up for every coffee date with lots of honesty. Take time to establish if they are genuine. They will be good. They won't value cows. They won't bore you with calls about whether the bull was castrated. Nor which goat didn't

show up that evening. But one mishap and they'll hurt you.
It breaks our hearts to hear strangers handling you the wrong way. Come, now let us talk.

Just the way we organise farewell parties to send you off to campus. You think it happens everywhere?

Your mothers can feel it

in the stomach. They know they are sending you off to a brutal world.

We are not saying we want to marry you.We are not saying you don't explore, we are saying they are not us. Have your gloves on and your sixth sense.Because you are raised differently. To trust random adults.

To be compassionate.

Anyway, we wish you well. Stay safe.

Credits to Misoi Kiprono Wayne