Tag Archives: mama

Mother’s Love

No woman loves like a mother

The only woman to whom you can never be a bother

The only woman you can only have one, even Casanovas can’t have two

She knows the cord is cut to free and not to detach

And so she stays, she saves, she prays that you may never lack

You may forget her when greens knock your door but she’ll not hesitate to carry you through the desert

Her love is like a flowing river, it never changes course

Her love is like wind you may stray but it will find you

You can’t lie to her, her look into your eyes pierces through your soul

She knows when to speak and when to just sigh

She knows when you’re honest and when you lie

She knows when your full and when you’re famished

By default she needs your respect

Let’s raise a toast to our mothers

The World Isn’t Fair

The world isnt fairWhen born she named me George

But that isn’t how I am known

Growing up they called me Agak

Living up to date is quite a luck

She looked at me in the eyes

Her palms as cold as ice

And as if she saw the end of time

She said to me; Son

The world isn’t fair

You’ve got to Fight for your fair share

The meaning was hard to unravel

Not knowing how close she had to travel

Before she finally bit the gravel

She said to me; Son

The world isn’t fair

You’ve got to Fight for your fair share

The eighth minute she died

Leaving me asking why

Had they taken all I had?

The world isn’t fair

You’ve got to Fight for your fair share

I love you mum with every breath

And it’s a shame my treasure they take

I pray you get the key to heaven’s gate

That you may get the reward for the life you gave.

To you the world was never fair

It gave you sorrows much more than your fair share

Losing every tear

Confirming all my fear

For a destination not so near

But what she said I still hear


The world isn’t fair

You’ve got to Fight for your fair share

I remember being in the streets

The thought of that make me sick

With wounds too deep to heal

The touch of death I still feel

In the streets where we only had one use of water- drinking no bathing or laundry

In the streets where we had to fight with pig owners every morning over leftovers from hotel trash bins

In the streets where we wrapped ourselves in greasy sacks and slept in the open rain and cold being treats we couldn’t afford to miss

In the streets where guns and gangs ruled you can’t really imagine how many friends I lost to the shoot to kill policy

In the streets where no woman could love us but we still got love bites from bedbugs that had chosen to keep us company in these trying moments. I still wonder why we were bitten by bedbugs when we neither had beds nor bags

In the streets where I faced tough decisions, I remember when Mswahili showed me a sum of Sh.6000 and begged me to join his gang, were it not for the values you taught me I could have fallen for that and maybe only my skull could be remaining in my grave

I remember nights when I went without food but in all this aridity your words echoed in my ears telling me that tomorrow will be better

In all this aridity I found friends who really cared for me. I still remember soldier, the guy who used to feed me when I was still a freshman in the University of Streets Fanana Campus

I remember how everything changed when he was robbed by mswahili led gang

That morning he called me, we sat on a heap of plastic bottles and he told, his voice is still fresh in my mind; hapa itabidi umeanza kusaka ndiyo nikiibiwa ama polisi wakinishika usilale njaa

The next day was a big day in my life; it was the day I began……

Looking for meaning

Looking for life

Looking for a place where I could call home

Street is my life, street is my life


I thought my life could be wonderful

I thought my life could be so beautiful

But it brings me so low



he dressed me in a greasy old stinking jacket and taught me how to carry a big sack on my back as we scavenged for valuables in dumpsites. That day was my graduation day and the greasy jacket, torn cap were my graduation attire and Soldier was my lecturer. This being the first graduation in my life.

I remember Omondi Ndogo he was the one who gave me the job of washing plates at Mama Mandela hotel. He got shot and died at underson estate.

My experience in streets taught me that sometimes the only thing you have is a pair of hands. These very same hands that I stuck in filth at dump sites, these very same hands that now enjoys racing on my laptop’s keyboard I won’t hesitate to stick in mud if that is all life needs of me

The world isn’t fair

You’ve got to Fight for your fair share

And now to all my friends

Those who hustle for their daily bread

Go for the best nothing less


The world isn’t fair

You’ve got to Fight for your fair share

We’ll have to part it’s quite a shame

But who am I to take the blame

When all of you were part of the game

Let’s meet there when we make it to the heaven’s gate
For The world isn’t fair

You’ve got to Fight for your fair share

-George Agak.