Nya Suba.....
Good fool Frederiko, used to pelt me and the village girls, on our way from the water fetching at the lake. Of course not with stones, with words, he was such a follower of Nyawawa! The living dead, they could pass when the land was full ripe, the maize cobs were large and the chickens had given out chicks a moon fold. Then they would choose the dusk or the dawn to present themselves on the village path, but we all knew so we beat up things hard, hard, from one homestead to the next so that the Nyawawa could pass on and go back to the blessed lake,
They were entitled to give us a visit once in a while, only when the land was rich with food, and Frederiko, standing there still making my side cheeks blush like them days, calling me with my fathers land name.....Suba