Oliver Kieran is originally from Forkhill and now lives in
The Ancient Kierans
Readers Stories
Forkhill meets Maoris
I am just returned from a trip to a speck of land on the bottom of the globe as near as possible to the exact opposite (its antipode!) of Forkhill, where I hail from!
Rachel: 6
Three months later and after a hard, wet drive from Livingstone on the way back to Rachel’s village, I once again reached the now familiar crossing point on the
Rachel: 5
I had not been wrong about this young lady. She had done exactly what I had hoped she would.
Rachel had rented the little hut for the equivalent of ten dollars a month and she was realizing the same return each day, of which forty per cent was profit. She had been able to stock the whole store with what I had given her and enough to buy some bedding and cooking utilities.
Rachel: 4
It was late evening when, as I had promised nearly six weeks earlier, I again approached the almost deserted village. The landscape was awash in pastel azure moonlight, while inky black shadows etched sharp outlines to starkly highlight the austere habitations. Candle light glowing from the shabeen‘s doorway illuminated the yellow sand churned aloft by the swirling winds of dust devils as they made their way into the night.
Rachel: 2
Two months later I returned to the village. As dusk fell and the last rays of sunlight cast an eerie glow upon the majestic river, I made my way as usual to the now familiar Shabeen. Rachel was not there – in her place was a much younger girl who seemed to be somewhat intoxicated and not very articulate.
Rachel: chief’s granddaughter
I first met her in her secluded village on the western banks of the
Kings on the Roof
I live within waving distance of a railway line; but, although I have kept a long and patient vigil, I have never once seen passengers fighting on the roof of a train – even a stationary one.
Gun Battles & Top of the Pops
We were walking home from school talking about football, girls and who might be on Top of The Pops later that evening. We heard gunfire and it sounded close. It was coming from the direction of our estate!
It was 1974 and gun battles between the IRA and the British Army were a regular occurrence in the estate. We often had to run home to our houses for sanctuary during these battles which were spontaneous and could occur at any time of the day or night.