Category Archives: african culture

What they say

They say we’re not fit to lead
They say we’re too young
They say we’re sons of nobody
They say royalty is not in our genes
They say 8-4-4 churned out literary dwarfs

They say we are lost
That we refused to see the trail they left us
Did we really see their path worth treading?
All I saw was a bone yard of justice
that corruption and greed got slain
long before my placenta tasted earth

They say our efforts yield nothing
Ours has been termed a lost generation
They say we’re a menace to society
They say our grey matter is dark with addictions

They say we’ll lead tomorrow
When our goals will be more defined
When they shall have paved our way
When our sisters shall have completed
The bedroom courses they sponsor

When our brothers shall have nursed
The gunshot wounds they shot
When our mothers shall have read the last eulogy of our siblings
When our fathers shall have returned to empty homes
with empty hands because they can feed us on empty promises
When the false incitement charges shall have eaten away our cattle shed
When the sheep shall have been driven out of church

But I ask you, what do we say?
What are we?

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The faceless ones

The faceless ones are bigmouthed
They talk too much
They believe it compensates for their faceless statue
The faceless ones visit when I’m out
Bringing all sorts of stories
Like a net cast in the sea
They net truths and lies alike

They are devious and cunning
They have razor-sharp memory
They know all the girls I have dated
Some that I have forgot
Some that only came once
Some that I chewed ones
And the more that I’m yet to chew

My wife is on top of news
She knows who I am
She knows the faceless ones are right
And I am as guilty as charged

The faceless ones have told her
That Nyambura and Kanini fought
Each swearing that they knew me full length
They told her that Anita’s bra got torn
When they fought with Adhis at the balcony
They told her how the police hand-cuffed me
And bundled me in Mariamu
Simply for keeping a school girl
Who was too deep for her age mates

The faceless ones didn’t stop there
They told her that I once stayed
Indoors for weeks
Nursing an oozing genitalia
After eloping with the village girl
That I sent packing after a week
They still believe she gave me Jakom

The faceless ones told my wife
That I’m worse than walking dead
They said that women are my office
Because I am adept at working in them
That is the only occupation
That I thrive in

So my wife heard them
Faceless ones gave her a voice
She asked me if we should be tested
I said she hasn’t give me reasons to doubt her status
She looked at the roof, fidgeted on her seat
And almost in a whisper she said
“I wish I could tell you the same”

And I left her there still mumbling
If only she knew what I’m afraid of!
No one will prick my fingers again!

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?

The chief’s daughter is heavy

The chief’s daughter is heavy
The chief’s daughter must be heavy
She has lost the wasp waistline
Her hips have so much widened overnight
And her tummy is shaping like Ohigla
The Chiefs Daughter must be heavy
See how she spits anyhow
Her mood has changed for the worse
As her breasts are getting bigger
But who has done this to Adhiambo?
Could it be the son of Odero
Or that University boy who lives in Kisumo
I heard he was seen here
But nobody could understand him
He swallowed kisungu like jarachar
Who could have known he pounds cunt?
Adhiambo was a good girl
I thought my son would marry her
Ohh poor lad, he lost his chances
When he dropped out of primary five
Now the elders must be called
Jagam must be found
So Adhiambo can be married
Before her ball is too big for the chief’s pitch