The collection center is also where the boys heard about Communists. They were told how Communists like to keep their lives private and they are very suspicious of everybody. You can be very good friends for decades, but they will never introduce you to their family or show you where they live and if you ever asked, that was the end of your friendship.
I am certain these story tellers had never met a Communist, or knew anybody who knew a Communist, yet they told those stories with authority you would think they worked for United Nations where they mingled freely with all these people they talked about so confidently.
I often wonder where they got their endless stories from, considering they were semi illiterate and there was no TV or Google or Wikipedia to consult for information. Whatever their sources, true or made up, those characters and their stories made the unpleasant task of milk delivery in bone chilling weather bearable. The boys got a laugh from these wild stories, momentarily forgetting their circumstances and just enjoyed the company.
I once heard a saying that “the most enlightened people in the world are travelers and poor people”. The people in our collection center qualified for both. Poverty had driven them to travel far and wide. Along the way, they learnt survival skills, resilience and a sense of adventure that brought them to Nyandarua. They had seen a lot. They had life experiences most people only read in thriller novels and find them hard to believe. As teenagers, we did not know it then, but looking back, it was an honor and a privilege to listen to their unfiltered experiences and our lives are better for it.
