I long for a bicycle of my own! I work in market every Saturdays earning five whole ten-cent coins. I liked roasted peanuts, chapati, rice cakes, and sambusa. I liked wooden toy trucks, kites, slingshots, and marbles. When I saw these, my heart beat excitedly. I wanted to buy everything. But what I wanted mostly was a bcycle of my own. I never spent a single coin. I dropped my all five ten-cent coins into my secret money box.

I liked count my coins. I emptied the box, arranged all the coins in piles and the piles in rows. I counted the coins and thought about the bicycle.

I learned to ride a bicycle under Yeyo's help. I fell off many times. The children always laughed at me. But I didn't care, I knew I would have a bicycle of my own.

Day after day, I learned hard. I could ride on my own. I also could ride a loaded bicycle.

Saturday after Saturday, I earned money. I arranged the coins in more piles and more rows.

On the first Saturday after school opened in July, I had gotten three hundred and five coins. I marched to the bicycle shop. I wanted to buy a bicycle. But the man laughed at me. Three hundred and five were thirty shillings and fifty cents. It wasn't enough for a whole bicycle.

I was very disappointed. I told Yeyo everything.

The next afternoon, Murete came home with a motorbike. He wanted to sell his bicycle to me for thirty shillings and fifty cents. That what I had! I had my very own bicycle.

But my father, Murete, didn't accept the money really. He gave the box to my mother, Yeyo. Yeyo, in turn, gave it to me. They said, "It's a reward for all your help to us."

Now I had a bicycle of my own and I had the three hundred and five coins. I wanted to save the coins for a cart to pull behind my bicycle. I wanted to lighten Yeyo's load. If I had the cart, yeyo wouldn't have to carry a big load on her head when we took goods to market.

The story was over but I know the boy certainly get a cart for his mother.

I like the story. I like the boy. I like bicycle.

Mum tells me that I bought myself a bicycle with my own money. But I have forgotten about it. I have forgotten how I learn to ride bicycle either.

En, I remember the joy when I empty my money box, arranged all the coins in piles and the piles in rows. I am not counting the coins, I am just arranging them. I think it is a funny game.

We are so different, the boy and me. He know what he want. If somebody tell me I had to spend 350, I wouldn't know what I want to buy. I have had everything I need.