Three stones.
A community would cook
Only three stones it took.
They would put a pot
On three stones on top.
As the potted food boiled
The stones they’d surround.
Enjoying the emanating heat
Many stories would heat.
Wisdom would be passed
History would be narrated.
One day visitors came
Things wouldn’t be same.
Three stones waste energy
They uttered with energy.
Expatriates told the indigenous
They shared their genius.
A gas cooker they proposed
Was much more convenient.
They said it cooked faster
And left little heat to waste.
The community advice it embraced
The three stones it abandoned.
Stories never again were told
The community disjointed.
Its culture dislocated
In absence of three stones.
By, Fanon Kihu.
1 thought on “Three stones”
I concur with the author.
We should bring back our three stones to salvage what is left of our tradition.
With a few words you have said it all.