@thesoulful_writer: Why do so many people from Central Kenya go quiet when this song begins to play? Because it is more than a song. It is a key that quietly unlocks years we had carefully folded away. It reminds us of the years when food was never guaranteed. When a meal was not an expectation, but a blessing. When the oldest child became a second parent long before they had the chance to be a child themselves. When caring for younger siblings was not kindness—it was duty. It reminds us of making that fourth trip to the neighbour's house to borrow flour, hoping they would still open the door with a smile. Of walking to the same shopkeeper who had already warned, "Before I add anything else, the old credit has to be cleared." Yet somehow, you still gathered the courage to ask. It reminds us of cold mornings in the coffee fields, picking berries before sunrise, then running after the tractor so the harvest would reach the factory. We would sit there patiently removing the bad berries, convinced we had become rich. Then our parents would collect the payment. 😂 And if you grew up among tea farms, you remember the heartbreak of watching the lorry leave without your harvest. You knew what waited at home. You would carry that tea yourself to the collection centre, sometimes after a thorough caning from a parent who also knew poverty was waiting at the door. Ooh, life. And then there was that food. Ugali cooked with potatoes, not as a delicacy, but as a strategy. So that the stomach would fill quickly. So that no one would ask too many questions about the stew. That is why they go quiet. Looking back now, we smile. Back then, it was simply life. Perhaps that is why this song quiets us. Not because we miss the hunger or that we miss the hardship. But because, somehow, God carried us through years we never imagined we would survive.

The Soulful_Writer

Open In TikTok:

Region: KE

Sunday 05 July 2026 18:10:35 GMT