My son, I am now an old woman,I feel the ancestors beckoning to me,My heart is punctured and frayed,My body: old and frail. In the years I have been around, I've learnt so much 'bout the world, I feel the time is ripe, To share with you my arsenal. In recent months, I've been watching you, Watching you keenly; watching with eyes of steel, My eyes have not slumbered in my watch, My guard has not dropped in my sentry. My son, I am afraid of what I see; I am afraid of what I dream; I am afraid of what I see in your eyes; I am afraid of your zest and vim. My son, I am afraid, The more I think of what you are doing, The more I age past my age, The more people comment on how old I look.
Interesting narration by Richard Mbuthia, as an old woman advises her grandson on social issues.