It is a morning in November. Some places in the world are grey as a northern sea in November, and colder. Some are silver with ice. But not Njoro. In November, Njoro and all the Highlands await their ration of warm soft rain tendered regularly by one or another of the Native Gods — Kikuyu, Masai, Kavirondo — or by the White Man’s God, or perhaps by all known Gods, working amiably together. November is a month of benison and birth.
