CLIMATE CHANGE

The sun was scorching and the air was dry. Nana, a young girl from the Maasai tribe, was walking with her father and brother to the nearest waterhole. They had to walk for hours every day, as the drought had made their usual sources of water disappear. Nana carried a clay pot on her head, hoping to fill it with enough water for her family and their cattle.

Nana loved her cattle. They were her pride and joy, and she had named each one of them. She knew their personalities, their likes and dislikes, their quirks and habits. She cared for them as if they were her own children. She knew that without them, her family would not survive.

But the cattle were suffering too. They were thin and weak, their ribs showing through their skin. They had little grass to graze on, as the land had turned brown and barren. They were constantly thirsty, and sometimes they would collapse from exhaustion or heatstroke. Nana felt helpless as she watched them die one by one.

She wondered why the weather had changed so much. She remembered when she was younger, how the rains would come regularly and fill the land with greenery and flowers. She remembered how the waterholes would be full and clear, and how the animals would gather around them in harmony. She remembered how her people would celebrate the seasons with songs and dances, and how they would thank the gods for their blessings.

But now, everything was different. The rains were scarce and unpredictable, and when they came, they brought floods and mudslides that destroyed their crops and homes. The waterholes were dirty and polluted, and sometimes they would dry up completely. The animals were scarce and hostile, and sometimes they would attack their cattle or their people. Her people were unhappy and fearful, and sometimes they would fight with each other or with other tribes over resources. They had lost their connection with the gods and with nature.

Nana wondered what had caused this change. She had heard stories from the elders, who blamed it on the white men who had come to their land. They said that the white men had brought machines that burned coal and oil, and that these machines had polluted the air and made it hotter. They said that the white men had cut down the trees and cleared the land for their farms and mines, and that this had disrupted the balance of nature. They said that the white men had exploited their people and their resources, and that this had angered the gods.

Nana did not understand how these things could affect the weather, but she trusted the elders. She wished that the white men would leave their land alone, or at least respect it as they did. She wished that they would stop hurting her people and her animals, or at least help them cope with the changes. She wished that they would listen to her people's wisdom and learn from their ways, or at least acknowledge them as equals.

But Nana knew that these wishes were unlikely to come true. She knew that the white men were powerful and greedy, and that they did not care about her people or her land. She knew that they only wanted more of what they already had, even if it meant destroying what others had. She knew that they would not stop until they had taken everything.

Nana felt sad and angry, but she also felt hopeful. She hoped that one day, things would get better. She hoped that one day, the rains would return and restore the land to its former beauty. She hoped that one day, the waterholes would be clean and abundant again, and that the animals would live in peace again. She hoped that one day, her people would be happy and prosperous again, and that they would reconnect with the gods and with nature again.

She hoped that one day, she would see her cattle healthy and strong again.