"Drr...Drrble!...drooble! droopdrup..lbldru!..."
This happens always where I was born whenever it rains or-like adults put it into children's minds- the winged people in the sky ,on God's instructions,empty His drums up for a downpour or a drizzle below onto both our roofs and farms and even animals or some people,like our neighbor Choni(John) who happens to be present at places without shelter at the time.If the result is a heavy downpour,then the angels would have emptied the smaller drums,otherwise it becomes obvious to every child from a household that still tells children stories that the drizzle came from a pour out of the small drums.
A boy's normal impulse as the sky roars and flashes in the build up to the fall is always an excited,agile sprint to save the goats from the field , get the dry clothes from the top of the hedge, or sometimes ,in the mother's or sister's absence,the maize that had been spread on a mat outside to dry in the sun for the posho mill and later evening meal.As he runs,his intention is always to save everything else from the rain,except himself;we highland boys -when smaller-enjoy rain falling on us so much so that we secretly hide to be rained on.We pretend to be more informed than our elders who tell us that it is not mosquitoes that infect one with malaria but rain instead.
'Abaisia baria(stupid boys)!get out of the rain or you will get malaria!",you will hear a father or mother shout after catching boys playing in the rain.The boys will stathen make as if they have obeyed and gone indoors but come out once sure they are out of their parent's gaze.
