 I was in New York City but do I say I met some Kenyans and happily introduced myself I said hello my name is Betty Muragori and I'm so glad to meet you and this one guy looked at me and said hello my name is John and I'm a lure said but why are you telling me your tribe and he said you said your name is Betty and you are a Maragoli language of tribe I'm well versed in the language of tribe having acquired the script long ago from my family my friends from my whole existence as a Kenyan really and I speak it with fluent authority there may be times when I look different special as if the language of tribe were beyond my understanding after all I didn't marry somebody from my tribe my children speak only English and my friends well they're from everywhere I have Kamba friends Kikuyu friends Kalenjin friends I have lure friends KC friends I have KC friends Somali friends and I even have an Indian friend or two but this is a false impression I am like everyone else this uncomfortable truth led me on a journey I wanted to know what is this thing called tribe really this thing that has a soul by the neck does it look like how does it feel how do we live with it laughing one moment with my tribal protagonist mash the bee out this poor man poor and the next looking at each other across a wide abyss a yawning space unbridgeable by the smiles of my former friends if tribe were a taste a sound a feeling a thing alive how would it be my experience of tribe is sharp acid on the tongue clanging metallic noises a rising tide of ill will a watchful expectation of reaching out to grab a cake for itself tribe grates loudly in my ears it must be heard as inevitable as Ugarli and Sukumawiki tribe makes me act secretly I hide myself in full public view I read the newspapers watch behind the news scan the streets count the members of the church council on and on and on I tally the number of times my tribe emerges when the appearance is favorable I smile in my mind I add up all mounting disadvantage to store in my prized basket of tribal grievance me I am expert at computation 0.2 percent of my tribe in the cabinet 3 percent of my tribe at church 76.7 percent of my tribe at my place of work I'm no longer conscious of what I do victim innocent but for the tribal designs of you others the truth the truth is revealed in broiling ethnic conclaves here secrets of the heart are safe I bring my hash hash bliss to the fall the bliss of playing victim to be mown with relish my wisely pickings condemn with glee the crumbs I feed on while others hog the national cake bubble this crap Rekha Maria Virichari Neito Virichari Nei ao