The Crying Stone of Samia
I don’t know how it all started
but back then,
we got into this habit
of going away from school
especially when the exams were done.
I was in class five and Nasser was just a new kid
but the toughest of them all.
He was from Uganda and couldn’t speak Kiswahili well
but his mastery of Lusamia was excellent
and his English was commendable.
I had been going away from school with many kids
but Nasser was a misanthrope
who made it clear that
he wouldn’t go climb the hill
if the other kids came along.
During our previous visit with Danny
(I am not very sure if it was him)
we had found this rock
that had water coming out of it.
That is how I had sold the idea to Nasser.
Now, I don’t know if there aren’t any crying rocks
in Eastern Uganda
but that got the new kid excited.
And the thing about being twelve years old is that
you rarely remember directions
especially when you’re climbing rocks.
But after five hours of searching
in the Samia blazing sun
I found this rock
that had a crack in it.
And being very tired
and also dehydrated,
I opened my fly,
took out that thing,
pissed into the crack,
then called out
Nasser! Nasser! I’ve found the crying stone!