If loving you was a career

I would specialize in it

I would learn to be the best in the profession

I would know its thrills and perils

All the highs and lows

If loving you was a career

Then you would be the college

Your backbone would be the curriculum

Tread carefully or fall head first into oblivion

If loving you was a career

Your lips would be the white board

And my tongue the marker pen

I would write for eternity,



Inscribing my love deeper than tattoo

Thousand students would want to write on them,

Some would, but their pens won’t write deep

They’d be erased.

When exams come,

My answers would remain

Deeply inscribed in your lips

And I would pass: the only one good enough for you

Tribalism is a malignancy

I am getting ready for a war to win the freedom to my thoughts back, I am getting ready to validate my own judgement. I want to judge you based on the content of your character and not on the lies I was told while growing up.

In fact give me my earbuds I want to cock out all the dirt they’ve spat in my ears all these years, my ears are aching of the rot within, can’t you get the smell: that Njuguna,Kamau and Mwangi are a band of thieves, that otieno, Adhis, Okoth, Achieng are walking billboards of braggadocio, That Wanjiku, Njeri, Shiro are all gold diggers, that mwikali, Kambua, kanini, Mwende are only good with their backs on bed sheets shifting positions and muffling groans but their hands are too feeble to hold the threads of marriage with due tenacity.

Na kama ni ukweli kila kabila ina maradhi

(if its true every tribe has an ailment)

Basi ni tiba tunahitaji

(Then its the cure we need)

We need a cure for tribal maladies

As tribalism is the worst form of malignancy

It creeps slowly into your heart and swells and bursts into lethal toxins that lames your sight in such a way that humans are seen as animals. you look at me, at streaks of blue in my eyes, at my kinky hair and light skin and all you see is a snake, kill or escape.

In reality all you should see in me is you in a different body, you with a different purpose and school of thought for we’re all one. Kikuyu, Luo, white, black, kamba, muslim, hindu, atheist, Christian et cetera we have a common ancestry. from Adam we all descend.

Its time we unloaded tribal stereotype baggages from our backs, dump them in rivers and watch them drown. I need a rest. we all need a rest. we might be different as east is from west but these differences make us complement. Somedays I find my bones too heavy, I tried to walk on but the earth surface threatened to break at their weight, I cocked them out and curved my coffin out of them, I dug my own grave and with all the strength I had left, dragged myself into my coffin, but still I needed six of you to carry the coffin into my grave.

Burry me deeper

Burry me deeper enough to stay dumb

Burry me deeper, for I don’t want to witness your fights

Fighting over what you didn’t create

When I labored all alone, broke my spine to give my children a life I only dreamt of as a kid

I see you wagging tongues, now you’re closer to a corpse

A corpse you couldn’t stand as a person

You eulogies suck, praises, now I am the man

Who stood for what is right

Who fed the hungry

Who schooled your children

But you never said thanks when I did all these

Burry me fast, am breaking at the weight of your words

All lies,

I’m not in my grave yet

But I hear rants

Who takes what? Who takes what?

This is mine, which is yours, we share,

Share it all,

He would have liked me to have this,

Are you even my children?

I see them crumbled in a corner

They can’t wail anymore, they are the real losers

They’ve lost a father

And everything the father worked for

That they may enjoy when am gone…

Burry me deep before they begin crying,

I don’t want to see them walking barefoot,

I have no strength left to fight for them

Hunger will never kill them

But your greed will

Burry me deep, deeper enough

That my curses won’t reach you