Thanks for visiting my blog. This blog chronicles a mostly 4-year journey of love, life, and loss. It's now time to retire. However, feel free to browse and read through the posts.
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Sunday, August 24, 2014

He calls me Jero

He starts calling me “Jero” right from the start
I tell him my name is Miriam Jerotich and I emphasize the “J” the way I like to 
so that no one misspells it. But he still pronounces it the right way:
The “J” melts into a “Ch” and I become “Cherotich” and then “Jero”.
And when he calls me Jero it sounds almost like the way Tai used to call me,
When he asks where I’m from the anger doesn’t burn in me like it did at 
Malindi Airport when the security guard asked me where I come from, the way 
Kenyans ask you where you come from so that they fit you onto their 
ethnic map
It doesn’t hurt when I tell him where shags is
It doesn’t hurt when I let him call me Jero.

it’s okay to break the rules.

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