My grandfather

He wore this hat because he didn’t want his white hair ruining the photo. He said it was like having flowers in his head. “A bit much” he said (loosely translated). Now looking back, I wish I had insisted he let the white hair out. I can’t wait to go back here on December and hear more stories about him as a boy smuggling cigarettes to the maumau and refusing to take candy from the white priest who really, was trying to get him to sell his people out. I also can’t wait to hear about how he walked to mount Kenya, for two days, in the cold of Kirinyaga because he wasn’t talking to my grandmother. It’s the little things

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