SOAKING IN SERENITY

The sun is rising. Softly. Gently. I want those rays to pierce through my tainted melanin skin. But I’m in a fast-moving car, squeezed between two men, ear pods plugged in and Njoki Karu’s playlist on.

I want to sleep. Soundly. Lost. I want to make for the hours lost chasing the sunrise. But there’s so much beauty along this road, my eyes can’t get enough. Moreover, the speeding vehicle gives the illusion of mere men chasing the hills. Hills that are in front of us this minute and beside us the next.

The hills cross each other, lush green from a distance, gloriously golden; an effect of the sun peeping from behind them. They are in all shapes, patterns, sizes, and heights both to my sides and front.

The road I’m on meanders through some of these hills. It’s a sight to behold. Different shrubs and trees to my sides in a car chasing the hills? Peaceful. The actual peace I crave. Wondrous. The very wonder I can barely behold.

I’m twirling in the world in my head. Taking in the gentle sun rays I long for and stopping to spread my arms wide as I face the sun eyes closed. I’m engulfed in an imaginary embrace. I take a deep and long breath. Then release it. Back to my twirls with a huge smile. I could get lost here without a worry but the car stops and takes with it my imaginary world. Eyes open. We are here. The sorghum fields in West Pokot; Chesangatat Marich Irrigation Project.

They want to drive us in but how do we experience the vastness and beauty of these fields without walking through them? Drone bag to my waist, a tripod stand in my left hand, and a Sony α7iii hanging on my right arm I set out to walk through the field. An earnest workman does not leave behind her tools of trade.

I can now feel the sun on my melanated skin. The warmth is soothing, the contentment, not wanting. I walk through the trails spotting spirited young men chatting their way through the harvesting. I say Hallo still wearing my sheepish smile and ask if I can take photos of them. They are warm. I make the most of this opportunity and shoot as many as I can from different angles taking advantage of the angled sun.

I am almost getting worried after steps and steps without spotting any women. We all agree that women look like goddesses in photos hence you can imagine my reaction when I spot them. I leave my colleagues to catch their vibrant smiles as they use their sickles to reap the sorghum off of their stems. I engage with them in a small chat, show them their photos and they cannot contain their joy. I’m disrupted by a call from my colleague who needs help hence I bid them goodbye and rush to the next farm where I’m supposed to get cutaways from.

I can for sure end my day here much as it’s not yet noon. I feel great. But I still have work and I am looking forward to every bit of it as we have yet to visit the river Muruny and the water intake point because the harvest from this 1,000-acre farm is made possible by irrigated agriculture as the rain has become unreliable but can we blame it for its unreliability?

Leaving here without an aerial view of the farm would be an injustice to my entire being so I do the needful before getting back to our car to leave for the river and intake. I live for these days.