Run to the Blue House

Soon as I finish up working, I run right quick to the blue house where my Nkuku Bosweo live.

None of the other grandchild visit on her. They say she look funny with her milky eye, spread stories she a witch. Maybe, I say, but she the happy kind.

She always glad to see me so, and make me the special sky porridge, stirring smooth while she tell me the story about the time Lion chase the girl Mulungi so hard she throw a rope to the sky to escape him. Mulungi climb up to the sky and find her the Thunder God’s sweet corn, which she pick for herself.

Thunder God so amazed by a girl’s boldness he show Mulungi how to grind it up and cook it right.

My Nkuku learn from her Nkuku who learn from hers. She  tells me she show me too one day.

 

What Pegman Saw: Botswana

The Bantu people of Botswana have many legends where a brave young human successfully climbs a rope to the sky, but its’s almost always a male.

14 thoughts on “Run to the Blue House

  1. I’m curious how you managed to arrive at his “voice.” It seems authentic but I wouldn’t have been able to come up with such a thing in a million years without help.

    1. Thanks, James. I have my ear open all the time to conversations and listen to the patterns of the way people speak. Writing authentic dialogue is always a challenge because people rarely speak the way we would write. I tinkered with this a bit, but as I told Karen it was rather like I was taking dictation

  2. Great story! Wonderful voice. I love how you have wisdom handed down from grandmother to granddaughter (well as a granny, I would, wouldn’t I!). I love how you have the Thunder God amazed at the boldness of a girl. Nicely done, Josh!

  3. Love the language of this. It totally fits and adds depth. I’m a big fan of mythology and creation stories, so I loved that aspect too. A very enjoyable story.

  4. Loved this, Josh. And that’s how stories are passed down from generation to generation.. Well, were passed down. Maybe still within those tribes but definitely no longer within our own…

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