It's a land far away from home, a place where hopefuls sojourn annually.
A fierce looking cane wielding teacher once told a bunch of dirty looking kids the tales of this land, I sat in that bunch.
19yrs down the line, as I prepare for this national rites of passage, a legion of uncertainties like a mysterious predator stalk me, waiting to ambush me.
This land makes you a man. Many years ago, ours ancestors built this land, a place where naive boys and girls go and if they return, becomes refined men and women. I have to prove my manhood, I must.
So many have been swallowed by this land, others were marred. In 2011, some hundreds of youths were slaughtered en mass in a gruesome post election violence, also one of the demerits the land boosts of.
I'm a soldier, about to enter battle. Memories of my fallen colleagues taunt me. Some fell by their swords, others were caught in enemy fire, a few even almost made it out victorious but for the uncanny carlos might of the enemy they fought. These fallen are nothing but memories to their families today, nothing more.
As I polish my armor and with the arsenal of weapons at my disposal, I ponder my fate which seems to lie now not in my hands but in that of my commanders.
I've saddled the horse for battle, supplies are also with me. But I still ponder, where will my commanders post me?
To the forefront of battle or to the sidelines?
A good soldier once told me, " the strength and nature of a soldier lies in where he fights in battle, Cowards fall to the rear, the brave take the battle to the enemy by advancing the frontlines"...I think he's deranged.
Will it be the frontline or the sideline; By evening today, I'll know.