Tag Archives: family

What if Babies Came with a Return Policy

If children came with a return policy, most of you couldn’t have lived long enough to spell your names. Parents could have been too empowered to raise any wayward, ill-mannered kid.

You break a glass, return.
You hurt another kid, return.
You steal sugar, return!

I’m doubting if we’d be having new parents in 2020. This whole generation couldn’t have lived. It makes me laugh because most of you couldn’t have known Corona.

Nor read about these balls.

Now, think. Could you have lived?
Or you’re a factory defect?

Middays are nostalgic

I love middays. Just when the clock strikes noon sharp. Sauchiel meant every mother was in the kitchen preparing something for us, kids.

You’d hear a mother asking a pupil;

‘Omondi, iduogo chon nadi, en sauchiel koso oriembi?’

And Omondi would answer with a starved voice, chocking on his anger because he knows his mother depends on this woman for time. Omondi’s parents didn’t have a radio. It meant his mother wasn’t even back from the shamba.

Midday splits your day in half.

When I was a serious man with a serious job, it was the time to take stock of the day; what I had accomplished, and what more to do before the day ended.

Today, midday finds me too stoned to take stock of anything, but when I miraculously do, it will be about the pleasures of wasting oneself. It’s a mixed thing you know; on one side you want to take stock of the pleasures you’ve got and how you can’t sacrifice them for anything, but on the other, is a biting conscience that you had so much potential but smoked it all away! Still, midday is midday.

In pictures: Tanzanian girl's long walk to education - BBC News

 

Mocking Walls

me-n-recho

The silent nights await the jangle of chains released
My mind is in a clobbered state
Nothing is ever right where it should be
Nothing of echoes of the past
Nor of whiffs of tomorrow
The prison I build myself has become home
My feet drag me back whenever I try to leave
And I have beaten myself for so long
Every beating now feels like a compliment

I see empty king size beds with jagged edges
Sheets moistened with traces of coldness
The warmth waning steadily like blood on leaching tongues
Partners revising the terms of their union
‘I love you’ now smoked and preserved
Awaits tears at the graveside

Memories still trickle in
Like incessant drips from a faulty tap
Robbing me of my peace of mind
Blames and self loathe diluting my vitality
She says she loved me
I left her stranded at the crossroads
With not a trail to follow
He says friendship changed meaning
Brotherhood got shattered
After series of unmet expectations
Neither brother nor the hood
Showed the same face twice

A sister says he needs her brother back
A mother weeps for a son lost
This path I now tread got thorns in it
But no one heard me cry in the night
I’m at war
But still frightened to free
The prisoner I made myself be

Janarobi Is Home

It all began here. Good intentions spelt in creased faces, friendship bred in warmth of smiles and brotherhood submerged in wine glasses like ice pellets. Odhis jararobi was home. As the custom is, janarobi had to ‘untie youths’, so he got them together and kanyaseme they went. These days kanyaseme is the most popular of all the breweries. Other breweries had had their share of darkness and were ditched. Each brewery had its own way to collapse but kanyalego brewery’s collapse is the most memorable. It was said that she used bilo, charm to siphon customers from other brewers and all this came to light when Bonke discovered that Nyalego used a dead man’s arm to stir he brew instead of cooking stick. That discovery tainted the image of kanyalego breweries, consequentially customers ditched followed by investors who couldn’t invest in a crumbling pillar.

They sat down on benches at the feet of Nyaseme’s hut. After he got filled on what was happening in the village; who had died of AIDS, who had divorced, who had married and who was remarrying it was his turn to tell them how Nairobi was fairing.

“Nairobi is going how?” asked Omengo as he straightened his arm for the bottle.

“Nairobi is going well” the answer came before he filled his glass.

The conversation took a different twist when Alanyo interjected;

“I hear ohuru is really castrating you Nairobians, you pay for water, rent, light. He paused, and then with emphasis, is it true you pay to piss?”

“Yes, Bwana there life is hard. Everything is money. We pay to eat, we pay to piss and if the constitution is abolished then we shall have to pay to breath”. Odhis answered as the rest jerked in laughter.

“Where is Lucinda these days?” he asked

“Lucinda went to Uyoma, he got pregnant, I hear she sells fish at Aram Market”, Oduno answered between muffled giggles.

As the rest laughed, Odhis just spat on the ground and in a raspy voice, “suits her, I wanted her but she refused. She told me she was studying to go to the university. I didn’t know it was university of Lake Victoria”.

Omengo who had been quite spoke. He stuttered. If bits of his words were to be joined, he would have insisted that janarobi had to leave his timberland boots, his hat and his shirt for him. He was completely floored by the brew; he was now blabbering and dominating conversations. Soon all of them followed suit and their conversations turned to choruses and insults.

It was well past midnight when Nyaseme threw them out of the compound. Everyone staggered home, or where he thought home was. Odhis woke up at about 5:30 am in a ditch. He had no shoes on, his bones ached and a terrible migraine was shutting him down. And he leant that not everything distilled is water and chang’aa isn’t just any other distillate.

If You May Decide To Plant Some Seeds

If you may plant some seed

If you may decide to plant some seeds

Be ready with a hoe to remove the weeds

And a watering can to feed them water

That the ground may not be a roaster

Lest they prematurely wither

If you may decide to plant some seeds

Be sure to note potential risks

Is this a barren land?

Will they break the ground above the peeping sand?

If you may decide to plant some seeds

Be sure to support failing knees

Of your beloved overladen

As she walks this earth, Rugged

If you may decide to plant some seeds tonight

Be there as a guide that they may grow upright

Avail some shillings for their meals

And a little more for school fees

If you may decide to plant some seeds

Build a capacity to provide their needs

A home founded on love

And roofed with the peace of dove

Like a farmer…….

Let good values be the manure

That you teach them as they mature

Let the hoe be a rod

That corrects them when they go wrong

Let the water-can be a source of hope

That may rekindle them when all is gone

Ooh before you decide to plant even a single seed

You need to know he won’t feed on sneeze!

If you may decide to plant some seeds