She marched out of the lake, so they say. The myth of Nyamgondho With her back bent, wrinkles mapping her determined face, she raised her hand and the passive waters came alive. Hundreds of cows, goats, sheep, donkeys and all manner of domesticated fowl followed in her wake. The braying, moo-ing, baa-ing and clucking jolted
On the Cultural Trail to Rusinga Festival
She marched out of the lake, so they say. The myth of Nyamgondho With her back bent, wrinkles mapping her determined face, she raised her hand and the passive waters came alive. Hundreds of cows, goats, sheep, donkeys and all manner of domesticated fowl followed in her wake. The braying, moo-ing, baa-ing and clucking jolted
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