Old shoe on an old river.

Whenever I am home I never fail to visit this small spring just behind my house. It holds a special position in my heart because I grew up with stories latched to this place. It’s very choko or pure is what our grandparents say and this place had served as a source of water for many years. They would come here and fill their Ghailas (brass/copper pitchers). We are told of how a long bamboo pipe was fitted like running pipe. And my papa and uncles always tells us how sweet the water tasted through bamboo pipes… Now we no longer use this place. The spring has become a lot narrower and there is a modern way to access water through pipelines which we do through another source, another spring, a lot bigger than the ancient one. But we still respect this place for taking care of our families for years…


#quarantinestories as zà,the o you are so

Published by Timeandreflections

I am a student, a girl in her twenties, writing for herself. A mind burdened with thoughts is lightened with words. Some people speak out while others write and I belong to the second category. I write reflecting upon the time past or present. The continuous time which sometimes make us forget our age. writing while reflecting is the best thing that people in love with words can do and I wish to write about the time and reflections as perceived by me - the time and the world around me and its reflections through my eyes. Instagram @pr_timeandreflections

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