“Jewoo Joseph,” I call her, “My Jewel Jewoo!” Does it matter? She is my J. J
And it’s her birthday!
She was born in the throes of passion.
The act was noble, and the day ordained
No sin! No tabia mbaya! But love on the rooftop.
Love that must have dimmed the eyes of the actors
But does it matter? She is my J. J, it’s her birthday.
And she was born on 12/12!
Happy birthday Jewoo.
 
I guess! Or do I believe so? That,
When she was conceived,
The moon must have been full and brighter
And its beams must have filtered through the ridges of Samar,
A Samar! They forgot to give her as a name, perhaps they mistook it for Sarah, or is she Sokomo?
I don’t know. She is both. She is not both!
Anyway, does it matter? She is my J.J, and it’s her birthday.
Happy Birthday Sarah
 
She is beautiful! She’s gorgeous and her eyes round as a clock.
When the clock’s hour and minute hand pointed to the holy skies through the roof, she was conceived
That hour! someone panted,
the other must have moaned in sweetness
and the bed must have creaked several times
I don’t know! It was Keemoi! Or was it Keemboi?
Maybe we ask the ‘blankets!’ Perhaps they witnessed the divine act.
But does it matter? She is my J. J, and it’s her birthday.
We only thank and pray for the authors, and say  
Happy birthday Sarah Kemboi
We have nothing to say, but we say,
May God bless you with many more years.
May God grant you a destiny as fruitful as the fertile womb from which you were born.
May you be an agile girl, one who drank from her mother’s nipples until her legs grew strong enough to wobble over the bed, wall, and furniture.
May your hands’ work always bring you enough.
May this additional year bring you even more wisdom.
Jewoo, happy birthday!