STORY OF MY LIFE. (true story)

My name was Michael Simiyu,as far as I can remember.I was a luhya.So...that was me..a healther chocalate skinned African baby boy.My mum was 24 years old then.Wow.Ladies those days were very well behaved.Not like this days when girls as young as 12 get babies.Woi!
As life went on,I got to figure out that my dad was some nice looking man,black,a little tall,and was having some job.Can't tell what job it was though. At the age of 4 there,I remember my dad buying this ka jiko,owning a red gratewall TV,buying me toys,so I guess he was a man with his job.I will talk about him better in another chapter.
My mum....she was good,beautiful,young, you know.She was a soft spoken lady,she still is.Loves laughing and being happy and went to church-catholic.She was leaned to the college level.She must have studied secretarial worm,a work she still is doing to date.She was a say 7th born out of say 10 children of her family....
My life as a baby must have been failry good.I can't remember anything odd or too good to mention.Am talking 0-4 years.So all that time I was in Tindinyo,in some neighbourhood there,with my young mum and dad.My grandmas place was not so far from there.It was like a kilometer.So my mum got married to a man who stayed not far from where she was raised.Good.
Memories...I can remember a life of peace.I had one as a baby.I wish I was informed enough about how I used to be when I was that young but in Africa,Kenya,we dont ask our parents such personal deep questions.Meibe because it could trigger some feeling in then that you are up to doing some mischief on who they made you to be.Meibe you will uncover some hidden truth.Meibe you will cause some people pain after so many years of having let somethings die.Meibe its just not right.Meibe you shouldn't ask why.
There was this cooing of a daove back in Tindinyo.Ooh my roots.Ooh my blood.I can still rember this sound of a bird up in the tall trees that were besides a road to my grand mother's place.It used to really thrill me.Every time I had anything close to the cooing of the dove,I start reminiscing about my life.Especially when the environment around is with trees,and some echo,and some luhya speaking people.It wakes a nerve in me.
We were not rich.But we also were not poor.Food was there.The economy around 2000-2004 with Kibaki just having taken over as the third president from Moi(rip to both of them)was okay.It was a generation of starting to discover the use of phones,the commonness of analogue televisions and steady simple fashions.My mum and dad must have been vienyejis because I can't remember any signature music or iconic pictures in my environment.