My father's farm was full o f family , friends and love. We had chickens and goats , sheep and cows ; we had beautiful green trees with yellow mangoes and coconuts as big as your head. My father, it seemed to me ,owned the best farm in our village of the Dinka people in Sudan , about 100 kilometres south of what the maps call the Barh al - Arab River , the border between the north and south of the country. We lived in two houses one for men , the other for women made from mud and topped by straw roofs shaped like an upside - down cones. I did not go to school. No one in my family had any formal education.
Like most boys I spent my days playing games and running in the fields but What I liked to do most was follow my father around as he worked on the farm. I felt my father's love every day. One day he called me 'muycharko' which means 'twelve men'' . I asked him ,"Why do call me myucharko" ? He laughed and explained that out of all his children I was the one who worked hardest , the one who would never give up. I felt my father's words flow into my body and fill me with happiness. i dreamed of being a great man with a big farm and many cattle.
i. the family lived in the two separate houses.
ii. the writer was encouraged and felt happy with his father's remark.
iii. the father called the writer'twelve men'.
iv. the writer liked to help his father with farm work.
a. The writer and his family lived in the house made of straw.
b. The writer spend his days by playing games and running in the fields.
c. Chickens , goats , sheep and cows were the animlas that writer kept in his farm.