Category Archives: Africa

Deprived

I’m not ready, she said
You have to be, he replied
And that was final
She, left neck- deep into the mess
Chained to the ways of the land
The daughter of the lake
A man she has to take
Father’s choice
20 yrs was the age difference
She complained she had another
But gods had decided
And their will she had to obey
She had been fed enough
It was time she got disposed
An item of trade she was
And a herd of cattle was the price
Who cares:
If he loves her or not?
If her heart melts for another?
If he’ll treat her well or not?
If he had a functional engine or not?
She had to be married
To the man who’d lost sight
But still had insatiable appetite for tender flesh
The three-legged man whose backbone needed straightening
He smiles, he whispers seduction but all she thinks;
“Old man you need a mouthwash”
Who cares?
She’ll get used
A herd of cattle wasn’t a small price to pay

pages in history

History is present
Troubling us with repeats of yesterday’s mayhem
Blood didn’t dry
And ground wasn’t barren
So seeds of hate sprouted
Watered by sycophancy and greed
What’s right isn’t profitable
What’s profitable isn’t right
Like freedom fighters who lost all while freeing the nation
We have been looted by those we paid to protect our wealth
And they’ve killed us for defending whats ours
Big cars they drive
Fuelled by our thin wallets
And soon they’ll back to shed more blood
For the gods they worship
The nation isn’t ours
We dont belong
We’re pawns on a chessboard
No life of our own
But just items of trade
And bargaining chip for political supremacy
So slavery isn’t dead
Just a page in history
Embeded on the present

Death is late

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I will write a letter and toss it in the wind
Or strip your hammock and toss in the river
I might be dead when they reach you
Nothing has changed
Yet nothing has remained the same
The gods have been vexed
All this time they’ve held rain

Grass still grows
Watered by endless flow of blood
The valley has changed its appeal
The shades we once rested under
Now home rotting humans
And vultures feast
The freedom fighters have fought the system
Then rebelled against their prior motives
They kill anything in human gait

But still….
The government lives
Not counting the ones lost
They fly outside to drink and dine
Because this nation is rotten
Their appetite might wane

When they took you, bro,
I couldn’t fight them
That’s cowardice I know
But death isn’t for the brave either

Bro, this nation is rich
You could have seen their arsenal
Yet, war isn’t cheap
Neither is peace affordable

Remember the cave we hid in?
They blew it up
Hundreds died in there
And smoke and dust soared high
As the blast drowned
Their shouts of victory

My turn is coming
I’ve dreamt about it with eyes open
I saw its end…
Somewhere in a vultures poop
I’m still lying here in wait
I know the bullets won’t reach me in time
This hunger, cold and fear won’t wait

Woodpecker Mourns

This morning I heard Woodpecker sing
She sang melodious songs
in mournful tones
She sang of victories;
The song of a worrier
leaving a battle field
with spear in his right hand
and a shield in the left
The voices of fallen comrades
drowning his chants of praise
then tears streaked his visage
he wept for families lost
beautiful wives
in curvy shapes and sound morals
warmth of children with innocent demeanour
The soldier wept for a future lost
of bodies disfigured
and red rivers
The Woodpecker sang it all
The plight of brave soldiers
whose sacrifices were met with greed
He returned home with nothing
but a spear in the right
and a shield in the left

Like a nightmare in a troubling sleep
home was no more
where his hut once stood
a notice now read:
“ PRIVATE PROPERTY. NO TRESSPASS”
The woodpecker sang
Ooh, the bird sang this dawn
the dirges of heroes gone
She sang of Mboya
A great worrier of Joramogi
A worrier of pen and tongue
killed for being too good for the regime
The bird sang of Robert Ouko
A hero slain for being too intelligent
to the heads in crown

The Woodpecker sang some more
these sorrowful songs of dawn
of fireflies lost in thickness of darkness
of trumpets drowned in silence
of night’s vigilant angels
and daylight marauding devils

The bird won’t stop
Now she’s singing of tombs
split open by gods of revenge
the cries of innocent orphans heard
the cursing of the widows
awakened the wrath of Karma
the dead are awake now
coming for their dues
now be quiet the mourning bird
the village awaits the morning bloodbath

Aged too Soon

Should I say I envied my brother?
Whenever he sneaked you home
When time stood still as you mourned
When the double-decker shook
And every inch you flinched tightened my pants

Did I ever tell you how beautiful you were?
No, not beautiful, just sexually stimulating
That every time I saw you I did an x-ray on you
And had sex with you in my fantasies
No, you could never know that;
My bulge was always concealed
By tight triangular briefs

Did I tell you of the sleepless nights?
When even in your absence
The sheets still smelt of your presence
And the crickets stopped their chirps
As your ‘imetoooosha’ pleas boomed in my mind

Did I tell you of the many nights I dreamt of you?
Only to wake up in sticky sheets around my ass
Ohh shemeji, how I yearned for you
I could have given a pair of balls
Just to hear you mourn my name
Till now the vulnerability in that voice
As it said ‘imetooooosha’ still thrills me

Shemeji how quick the world has beaten you!
It was just yesterday I yearned for you
Today your nakedness can deflate my erection
You’ve aged shemeji. So quickly shemeji

Did you marry a man?
Please do and dump the beast
He’s squeezed the juice of life from your ass
It now sags like peels of skin on the back of a donkey’s balls
Your skin once radiant now a labyrinth of scratches and folds
My old shemeji how the world has beaten you!

She has left

Nyalego has left
She has gone back to her father’s home
She couldn’t stand all that shame at the market
Even children now know who she really is

She was caught naked on Odhiambo’s bed
A boy who was still in primary Eight
How could that bed bear her weight?
Nyalego has spoilt this village
Her husband says she has been into sexual pilgrimage
For a long time he hasn’t touched her pants
Kumbe Odhiambo was the one fulfilling her wants

The neighbors complained the bed squeaked so much
And the boy was rarely seen outside
He had a lot of inside job
The neighbors had long forgotten the color of his uniforms
And the path to school no longer knows the might of his steps

Nyalego has charm
For how could she bewitch the pastor’s only child?
For weeks the boy hasn’t reported to their home
Nor does he ask for money for upkeep
The pastor will drop Jesus and pick a machete
Nyalego should never come back

Odhiambo is still very young
To be learning reproduction practically
He said he only poked it with his finger
That’s how they do it digitally

Now Odhiambo has been expelled
Nyalego is out of sight
He is the only one,
Who’ll bear the weight of shame

My Father’s Barren Land

My father’s barren land still has a breath of life
A life that’s meanly kept for itself
Nothing ever grows here
Just rocks and bits of glaring pebbles

This barren land has nothing to offer
Just rocks with slippery surfaces
A haven for reptiles
Where lizards and snakes
Play their witty games

On this land cassava once blossomed
Only to get dehydrated before harvest
Mother ditched this barren land
Left it for the wild to roam in undeterred

This barren land is cursed
By the fathers of our fathers
Those it denied meals to feed
And shadows to rest

Dear fallen fathers
This land is good for something
Please vacate your current graves
And come inhabit this land
Let its belly swallow you
Let its rocky wall shield you
But again dear fathers
Will its shallow belly accommodate you?

Atieno Onge’yo Tedo

Atieno ongeyo tedo
Kwone chiek magol odeyo
Jaber kotedo dek
To welo medo didek
Ringe yom, ichwako giyien mobar
Jomakalo eyo kowinjo suya to dwa mana ni obar
Omende ka ibilo to iweyo dhi Kosewe
Ayaye nyathini ong’e tedo diel nyaka lewe

Jodongo kochamo kwon Atieno
To muomo mudho mandiwa gotieno
Gikelo mbaka e dhoda
Kaigalo ni ariambo to penj Rubot wuod Ododa
Obiro koni kaka jaduong’ Othwele mabakane ok rum
Sechego to oseneno ka iro dum

Atieno ong’eyo pidho welo
Kawendo odonjo nyaka oted gweno
gwen opidho mopong’o osera
To donge nyathini jahera?

ologo welo gi pi ma mamormor
miyo welo chiemo gimor
gik medo ndhadhu bende en go kanyo
Dania, hoho, saumu gi karot oromo kado
Apilo makech bende omiyi iketo kendi kaka idwaro

Atieno nyar Ahero to ahero
Jaberni omiyo aweyo sero
Nikech ong’eyo rito ode
Dak imiene giweche chode
Jaberni osekwalo chunya chuth
opogore ginyiri matimre kathuth
ma oheri ka ingi mwandu
bang’e to giringi ka chogo ma onge ndhadhu

Jaber orito wuod nyar kumabor
Wuoyi tinde iye opong’o bor
Ka adonjo jaber miya nyuka
Ok nyuka anyuka okalo ka
nyuka mobagi to oole ei agwata
Sukari okelo e mesa aketo kenda

Bang’ nyuka to aluokra gi pi maliet
Bang’ luok to achamo kuon maliet
Sechego jaber otwe suka lilo, denda bet maliet
Bang’ kuon anindo kuom del mayom to liet
ouma gi onget maliet
kiny ka achiewo to chae maliet
Adhi tich gi chuny mokwe
Omiyo nyathi Ahero to ahero
Omiyo afwenyo ni jadhako ruoth.

Isn’t This Hypocrisy?

Having to grow in country like Kenya where what you hear is the exact opposite of the reality can be the most disgusting experience one can ever have in life.

Many a times the mention of the word – hypocrisy brings to mind religious figures we have, no doubt religion has always attracted undue criticism from individuals who always view religious leaders with high expectations ,some are even expected to be the Christ himself, wasn’t Christ rejected due to the unfulfilled human expectations? Must God always fulfill our needs to be God?

Needless to mention the height of hypocrisy has gone beyond the religious borders and one has to look at the game in the political arena to certify this. Speak of jackals in a sheep’s cloak.

The teachers’ strike just unmasked the “do as we say” lot.

 

 

 

Greed Poisons Souls

Greed poisons souls

It’s a cancer some inherit from the old

While some cultivate it with their own hoes

They never get satisfied, these ambitious whores

 

In their world exist no laws

They create them, laws for the broke

We elect them, from us they rob

You blow whistle, to your grave you’re gone

 

They have no limits, the greedy bastards

Once followers, they made us scavenging rascals

We demonstrate, their swords are out of scabbards

They are now killers, knew them as land grabbers

 

To children they inflict painful wounds

No balls on their playgrounds

Just guns, teargas and police dogs

It’s a curse being here, where injustice abounds

 

 

Greed Poisons souls
Children served Teargas while protesting grabbing of school playground by a politician