Lioness Atieno

Migration Story

I Am Nyar Ulaf, Daughter of Kamyaye I am Luo. I am nyar Ulaf, ja-Kamyaye. And my roots are planted in Ugenya soil. Our story starts like every Luo story, with Ramogi. From Bahr el Ghazal we came with cattle, drums, and stubborn hope. We crossed Uganda, we crossed Busia, and when we reached Siaya, Jok’s sons sat to share the land. Alego took the open plains. Sakwa took the wetlands. And my Ulaf? We settled where the hills hold the sky. “Here,” our fathers said. “This is home. Land you can defend and raise children on.” Ulaf is one of the Ugenya clans. And inside Ulaf, we are *Kamyaye*. People of discipline, people of the farm. While others chased the lake, we chased good harvests. We planted maize, beans, simsim. We built homes that lasted. Kamyaye people are known for 3 things: hard work, education, and keeping our word. My grandfathers woke up before sunrise to go to shamba. My grandmothers could cook, fetch water, sell at the market, and still help with homework by lamp light. When the missionaries brought books, Kamyaye said “tuingie.” We sent our daughters to school. Today you’ll find nyar Kamyaye as teachers, nurses, bankers, and women who build businesses from nothing. But we still go home. Because no salary can replace shosho’s tea and stories under the pear tree. To be nyar Ulaf, Kamyaye, is to carry strength and patience. Strength, because hills teach you to stand. Patience, because good harvests don’t rush. Migration wasn’t running for us. It was planting. We chose land. We chose Ugenya. Today I may live far, but my name locates me. “An nyar Ulaf, ja-Kamyaye.” It means my people chose the hills. It means I carry red soil on my feet and the stubbornness of my grandmothers in my heart. I am modern, but I am also old. The hills raised me. The women before me made me unshakable. And the story continues with me.

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