When Ugandan Kiprotich won gold at the 2012 London Olympics, I was happy as a lark. No. Euphoric! As deliriously ecstatic as a sandboy. I even changed my name to Kipzik. But when I walked out the door to celebrate, my Kenyan people laughed me to scorn. Kip-what, a Ugandan? Winning a marathon?! Ye-es, I mumbled in reply. Ha ha ha! They roared and rolled on the floor, tickled to death by our collective claim to the Ugandan-ness of Kiprotich. I slowly lowered my hands (they had been up in jubilation), and my head and shoulders drooped as I sauntered back home.

But by golly, this train is unstoppable! At the Commonwealth Games last year, we had Cheptegei (Gold), Chesang (Gold) and Chelangat (Bronze). I promptly changed my name to Chepzik. Tonight? Ay caramba! Cheptegei has hauled in our second gold after Nakaayi’s first last week, at the IAAF World Championships in Doha.

How will I celebrate?

Wololo! I’ll pump my hands in the air as I jog tomorrow morning. I’ll kick along any disused tins I find on the road. I’ll smile and wave at all the drivers stuck in the early morning traffic. And when I get home, I’ll let out a loud shriek and quickly close the door behind me before I attract any killjoys. Those gloating non-Ugandan Sanballats and Tobiahs who routinely mock me, and grudgingly refuse to acknowledge our greatness. Woi;-)???‍♂️??‍♂️????