The young man tied his shuka on his shoulder one day and took his shield and his spear and went to war. It was an ordinary story, but Kibii and I, who knew him well, thought there was no story like it, or one as sad, and we think so now. It was about how the war progressed in German East Africa and about a tall young man who was killed in it. It was not a story that meant much as stories went in those days. It seemed a laborious method of retribution, but that was the way it was being done.Ī messenger came to the farm with a story to tell. ![]() A man of importance had been shot at a place I could not pronounce in Swahili or in English, and, because of this shooting, whole countries were at war.
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