Jul 21, 2016
Who ate this time (in honour of the late Saf Ron Kulere)
Someone put his hands into this plate and it never got out. My brother said so, when we gathered under the thick mango tree in the village square. There were chants of royalty, gold upon a head. We called him father, cause his son was my brother. Someone will put his hands into this plate and so will I, his son always said.
Nights after nights we levied on his wisdom when he picked up paint brushes…
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