Kanomora lived in a hostel made from rusty train carriages. During the home weekend, he brought math homework. 

“The circlet objects are the huts, the moon and the kraal,” he said. Kanomora’s mom was a talkative woman, so he put on his headphones. This time, he shook his head right to left, and plotted every word that his mom chatted. After every fourth word, he sketched tally symbols. 

“Surprise!” Kanomora yelled, waving the notepad. “The number of words you speak per minute,” he chuckled, pointing at 6,000 sticks in the exam pad. “I multiplied the tallies with the number of school days,” Kanoo said, tickling his father. By sunset, Dad had stuttered six words. Mom furrowed her eyebrows, and slapped him on both cheeks. “I’ll not pay your hostel fees,” she said, ripping his math books, before tossing them in the flaming coals. 

The next day, the boy played in the rainstorm. This time, he numbered the raindrops, before they touched down on the soil. Soon, he plotted 18 000 raindrops on a graph. Later, he drilled holes into the bottom of an enamel bucket. By now, the yawning river was flooding, and he dipped the bucket into the water. 

Kanomora counted 3 000 man-made droplets dripping from the bucket. Minutes later, he slipped, and the splashing river threatened to drown him. “Why are you playing in the rain?” Mom asked. She patted her lap, and begged the 2,3m boy to sit. “I’ll not become a swimming pool,” Kanoo said. “Water evaporates,” he said, while his mom bites her tongue at the tongue-twisting word. Kanomora’s wise remarks tickled his father, who tumbled from the log stool. 

The next day, Kanoo used the coffee sieve and counted the number of soil particles. By noon, the sifted soil had shaped a mountain-size dune. “That’s my son,” his dad said, pounding his chest and bragging that his son had built Dune 9 for the science project. However, Dad squinted when Kanomora collected dry cowpats instead of firewood. This time, his shaking lip’s father removed his camel-skin belt, and whipped him. “Stop chopping trees,” hissed Kanomora, sobbing between the hiccups. 

“You’re not allowed to leave the thatched yard,” Papa said. However, that didn’t stop Kanoo from numbering the twinkling stars or the feathery grass. That semester, he got an A-star in Mathematics and received a gold medal in a science quiz.