Kilimanjaro: a Fable of Utopia (2014)
“I have no secretary or receptionist, so I just called out “Come in!”
The door remained closed, so I got up, walked across the office, opened it, and found myself facing a tall thin boy of twelve or thirteen. He was clearly from a pastoralist family, for he wore the traditional red blanket and carried a spear. He was barefoot, his hair was carefully braided, and he looked like he needed another twenty pounds on his body.
“Hello,” I said in English. “Didn’t you hear me?”
“You are David ole Saitoti?” he responded in Maa, ignoring my question.
“I am,” I said, switching to Maa. “Won’t you come in?”
He looked carefully around my office as if expecting to find demons awaiting him, which was obviously why he hadn’t entered when I first called out. When he found no hidden monsters he finally nodded his head and entered, taking up the traditional herders’ position, with one leg on the floor, the other bent with the foot pressed against his shin, leaning on his spear.
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