THE DRAGONFLY STORY

Am not very sure if you are all familiar with the dragon fly story. Nonetheless, am more certain that you are familiar with the dragonfly itself.

During our childhood days, the older boys in the village and in upper primary school back in the days had a very peculiar way of "winning" a girl (s) of their choice. The dragon fly.

I remember Mutua Wa Salasio, a huge tall and talkative boy, would boast to us how he had worn the heart of many beautiful, elegant girls. I recall him explaining how the dragonfly was his secret weapon. Every morning during the 10 O’clock classes break, he would gather at a landmark huge stone behind the class 8 classrooms where the older boys would surround him to listen to his hot, funny and dirty stories. No one knew the age and origin of this huge stone but Mutua Wa Salasio, would often tell us how his great grandfather is buried under that stone. The younger boys like me in the lower classes would later often join him in tens, to listen to his "wise" and entertaining stories. His laughter would often keep you glued to the stone and himself at the same time.

On that day, he narrated to us how he collects dragonflies, puts them in Vim container, kills them, dries them and pounds them into powder. He further went on to narrate how he would apply the powder on his hands and then stand adjacent to a pathway where beautiful girls often passed and salute them by shaking their hands with his dragon fly powdered make up on his hand. "That's how I win the heart of these girls", I recall him concluding the story on that particular day.

On one Friday afternoon, he led us into collecting the dragon flies at a nearby stream, now dried up as a result of global warming, and we followed the same process of manufacturing the dragon fly love powder. Systematically keen more than enough to miss any instructions by the huge tall talkative boy. In the process, you could see the delight in me owing to the fact that the naive I would soon or later win the heart of my life. The eyes were smiling. The hairs were doing Celine Dion love jig and the heart was pounding rhythmically to the hair's Celine Dion musical tunes.

In the evening on my way home, I applied the dragonfly love powder on my right arm and stood strategically at a path that was leading to our homestead. Eagerly and confidently waiting for the beauties to cross my line. Silly I. Silly we.

The first person to cross that path was my auntie known as Ceresitini Nchabira Wa Kimamo. Nchabira Wa Kimamo was and is still a very intelligent disciplinarian who would have qualified for the DCI position in the current times. I could not escape my shangazi because she had already spotted me. I could not salute my auntie with the respect she deserved of course for the fear of the obvious. The fear of the "chemical" reactions of the dragon fly love powder. Would you have wanted your auntie to follow you because of the dragonfly love powder? Absolutely it is a NO.

That is how I headed up with a thorough "nyaunyo" beating back home from my mother for not shaking my auntie's hand with respect. Mutua Wa Salasio, the huge tall and talkative boy, I will never forgive you.