KoJepkemoi looks ahead stoically as she holds the motorbike by its horns like an experienced Mexican bullfighter. Her resolute eyes focused on the road as if to dare the world to throw in any challenge on her.
Her bosom friend KoJemosop sits tightly as she prepares herself for the ride of her life to God-knows-where. She is oblivious of the phone camera clicking near her to capture the hilarious moment of the two dreamers whose courage is the stuff of a Hollywood horror tale.
I cannot help but think of the horror crash if any of them dares touch the ignition. However, I check my feelings as I ask loudly: Who am I to stop the grandmothers from their wild dreams?
KoJepkemoi looks fired up; it is as if her entire youth life in the years gone by had been brought back to her on a silver platter. Her eyes look nostalgic as she revs an imaginary engine.
For a moment, the creases on her forehead disappear magically as a broad smile breaks on her ageing face. It is an infectious smile that electrifies the atmosphere around her. The North Rift is indeed wonderful as Kura Kipkura will narrate to you in his tale of the firewood rider, one Faith Jepchirchir. When you add KoJemosop and KoJepkemoi, the tale goes full cycle through the generations.
KoJemosop clutches resolutely on the motorbike frame as if to ready herself for the upward thrust of the Apollo II rocket to the moon.
It is hard to stop the heart once it dreams.
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