The Tree I call Mother

More of 2017 aha moments which came to me when I was NOT thinking about interventions around polarization of Kenyans during the election period. This tree I lovingly called mother because it taught me so much so fast just by being. Mother helped me to understand how as Kenyans we lost our sense of community and Ubuntu during the election period. How does mother appear dead in the trunk and have a live green brush as its crown? All around her there lay dry wood. They were branches which broke off because mother could no longer feed them and worse, she had to sacrifice them for her survival. What is interesting is that the flora around her is green and thriving. They do not feed off each other. On further investigation mother was brutalized. I literary climbed inside her from the bottom of her trunk. Which animal did this? I could see fur inside. There was a furry creature (s) that mother provided boarding to. She is mother. Was it the weather that ripped her open so leaving her open to invasion? Driven by the question about how she still maintained a live green brush as her crown refocused me. I scanned with my eyes and felt with my hands. Then I saw it. One root out of the several appeared supple and succulent. I touched it and it felt cool. It had green moss on top of it while the rest looked brown, flaky and ashy. This is how mother maintained her live green brush as her crown. She had one root which dug deep to supply her with just enough water and nutrients to stay alive during the dry seasons. I beg your pardon, during peace time. When the rains came, she would I am sure without a doubt in my bones blossom with a burst of green and self-repair. I wanted to experience mother more and decided to climb her. She was hard to navigate because the branches weaved and intertwined through each other guarding her trunk going upwards from the midsection. Mother had used her dry branches as a defense. Mother is us.