By Gideon Mutai

I have been sleeping under one blanket

The doctor advises I add one atop

Considering my advanced age

Or else I catch cold

“Time and tide waits for no man”

He added.

“Sink or swim”, I told myself

I crossed the Rubicon in the nick of time

Heading towards the ‘Blankets’ Supermarket’

“How much does this blanket cost?”

I asked after examining it judiciously

“It is five hundred shillings

I’ll not tell you where it was made-Indonesia

I’ll not tell you how it was made till it is spick and span

This is what they call Raymond

I assure you that no man has used it before

Putting all these on the tapis,

The blanket is worth its price!” He answered

I had no other way of paying for it

But to exchange my five cows

For the extraordinary blanket

Not knowing if it could cover me

In summer and in autumn

When my purse is heavy and when light

I don’t know if I should pin my faith on this blanket

Till I return to the soil

From which I was made