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Hagadera

Hot, hot here in Hagadera
The sun scorches like hellfire
Sun burns on your poor face
Sweat all over your armpits

Sweat trickles down your spine

Ooh, between the contours

Down there

Hot, hot here in Hagadera
A bottle of water in your hand
A cap on your head
A hijab on your head

Hot, hot here in Hagadera
Closed shoes thrown away
Open shoes in our burning feet
Under tree shades we sit

Hot, hot here in Hagadera
Acres and acres of land
A wilderness
Here in Hagadera

Hot, hot here in Hagadera
Have seen brethren worship
In one church in the desert
Worship in the police station
Oooh, worship as one people

Have never heard I’m AIC,
Have never heard I’m ABC
Have never heard I’m HELICOPTER
Have never heard I’m GFBC
Have never heard I’m DELIVERANCE
It’s a worship centre for us all

Ooh, come and see this desert
No casinos yet land full of opportunities
No  Kanyari yet a miracle land
Security briefs yet baby sleep

AND HE CHOSE FOREST

And he chose to live in the forest
A forest everybody was afraid of
And they dissuaded him these people
And he never listened to these people
And they planned to kill him these people
And that morning they searched and searched
And he had left and they never heard of
his whereabouts till yesterday

And he came home yesterday, yesterday
It rained for the first time ever since he left
The neighbor’s son’s wound healed
And everybody said, ” he is back.”
And nobody wanted to visit him
And he never talked to anyone

WORK PLACE

In the work environment we collect different lessons. A work environment is comprised of both old and young employees. Each of these can learn something from the other, but oftentimes these two parties perceive each other as a threat. The old think that the young have come to take over, the young think that the old have overstayed. There should be no discord between these two camps. We can leverage from  both; the young are energetic and have an advantage of time and rich in new trends. The old have wisdom and experience and rigid to change and they can say, ” In 1650, we used to do it  this way and it never worked so we need to do it this way .” In other words, these guys blatantly oppose change even when it’s obvious that a change is needed. The young think that they’ll never grow old. The old think that they were never young. If one party isolates itself, then there will be no productivity in the work place.

WORLD AIDS DAY

It’s commemorated not for any goodness
Maybe for the profits made by ARV company
Maybe for the collateral damages for the orphanages and widows and widowers, maybe
It’s for what it has done to many a people
It’s here in the streets

It’s a reminder to you and me that it’s here, there
That AIDS/HIV is here and there
And we cannot be carefree
Love for life surpasses everything else
It’s here with us and be faithful to one partner
Eat only one cookie and be satisfied
The streets are dirty, littered everywhere, not sanitized, not chlorinated, these streets
It’s worse than 1999
Yesterday’s brief dopamine would kill you today
It’s here in the streets

You were born with it, I’m sorry, it’s not your fault
You collected it on the streets, there’s hope
Don’t spread it…
It’s not a death sentence, there’s hope for you
Faithfulness to the medication, full dosage
You can live a healthy life and it’s not a death sentence

It’s world AIDS day, doors to the VCT open
Let’s go for checking, let’s make wise decisions
Back when I was two and one they told us, back
those days at Musuani primary, that afternoon 2004
Were they “Diguna”… they made us say this;
“Vai mundu Utena ukimwi ateo nye.”
(No one safe except me) and they told us
And I thought about it yesterday and today

Exams

Exam invigilation time is a good time for the  teachers. They down their mobile phones for a minimum of 6 hours per day.They don’t converse save for reprimanding the candidates. It’s a moment for reflecting on one’s life. Hahahaha! New year’s resolutions. Visions and plans come in such moments. Oops! But they don’t have a paper to write on. “No notebooks in the exam room ,” is a rule.

LIFE

Life is full of roses and every optimist is picking their bouquet. Come on pick yours. I picked mine yesterday and I can’t stop keeping it close to my bosom. You will be pricked by thorns, thorns set on your way. Hey, pick these boots and wear them. They gonna help you on your way. Your blood is gonna cloat buddy.

MY ADDICTION

Yeah, I want to get addicted
Addicted to everything that’s good
I want to sit under the great tree and get
Addicted to all the virtues worth living for;
honesty, kindness, long-suffering, empathy,
Everything that mollifies the spirit
All coated with love
Yeah, I want to get addicted to all these

good and beneficial, I want to wake up
Wake up everyday to goodness of life
I want to surround myself with goodness
I want to pay for what is good and beneficial
I want to travel to the south, north, East and west
If they stop selling goodness I’ll leave
I want to read every book on goodness
I want to write a book about goodness
I want to sit down and listen to goodness

I want to learn to be quiet than later say sorry
I want to tame my tongue and listen more
More to their perspective and answer after a year
I want to guard my heart above the ego
I won’t allow anyone get near it

I want God’s opinion above public opinion
And what does God say about this
And is it worth living for
And how will I benefit from this
I want this to be my anthem

Life in the desert

Life in the desert is one of the greatest experiences you can have in your life time. Schools have closed and you are at home and you hear someone comments about the life in Dadaab. You are like, ” Have you ever been to Dadaab?” You want to shut them up and instruct them to sit down and listen. Listen to how life really looks like in Dadaab.

The fears demystified. People here don’t live in a constant fear. There is no gun shots everywhere. We just live. We sleep like little babies. We wake up in the morning and leave for work.

HELLISH ATTITUDE


You wake up for a job that you never liked
It’s Monday and it feels like Friday afternoon
You wish Monday was Tuesday and
Tuesday was Wednesday and Wednesday was Thursday and Saturday was every day
was there an option?
No energy in your work, no zeal
No honesty, no consistency, no passion
You wish you had made better deals
But here you are, look at your tired self
You have hellish attitude

You meet a bunch of colleagues like you
You meet a boss like you
The devil’s incarnate
You give your boss hard time
He shows you the hell
No energy in your work, no zeal
You are just a zombie, that found itself at
Work, and you sow the seed of discord
You have hellish attitude

Own up your mistake in career choice
We were not there as you signed up
I want it to torment you, I’m sorry
You have hellish attitude
Oh, no I have a solution ; resign

WE LEFT


We left campus after six and one
Those lecture halls we so visited
The lectures we so attended
We sat on those chairs tills buttocks hurt
We sent them friends to book seats for us
But we left the campus after six and one

We celebrated when lectures bounced
CATS and exams gave us headache
“Degree ni Harambee we said”
But we made it through
But we left the campus after six and one

The camaraderie we built in campus
Those prayer groups we formed
Men of courage, daughters of Zion
We went to prayer mountain, to “rivee”
The door to door we made
We studied Job, Peter, Jeremiah, and them
We built trust in our friendships
But we left the campus after six and one

We left after six and one
The leavers’ party, bash, nostalgic speeches
And we left, we stayed connected for so long
The connection fizzled out
We’ve moved on and lost the grip
We’ve not seen each other since then

We paid fees for the lessons
Outa here no fees, but wueeh!
Life has taught us, taught us
What teachers didn’t
So we left after six and one



UTOPIA


And I came to a land so peaceful
People didn’t erect stone walls
’cause there were no more fear
No more killings in the land
And I walked slowly and listened
So peaceful a land it was

And I came to a land so peaceful
There were no guns
No more grenades in the land
And I looked and I saw no police
‘ cause there were no more fear
And I walked slowly and listened
So peaceful a land it was

And I came to Almuuuukukun
So peaceful a land Almuuuukukun
I walked from Njuoeke to Njuoeke
And I looked and I saw no police
‘ cause there were no more fear
And I walked slowly and listened
So peaceful a land it was

My pluplu

My pluplu
I’m playin my pluplu
The best tune I’m playin
The instrument I like

Come all an’ listen as I play
Its music is melodious
My playin is the best
Stop all your business

Come all an’ listen as I play
Leave your wives and come
Leave your husbands and come
Last time I played plu plu was 1994

Under the acacia trees
I played it all the night
Leave all you doin’, come to my plu plu
My playin plu plu leaves all
Mesmerized
I play my plu plu

ONE DAY, MANY YEARS

One day you will look at the mirror
And see your older self
You will smile as you see those wrinkles
You will chuckle as you see those scars
One day, many years

The wins you’ll have gathered
The visions that bore fruits
The failures you’ll have gathered
Things that didn’t work out
One day, many years

The wife of your youth, the husband of your youth
You’ll come home to a family you built up
You’ll come home to a family you neglected
One day, many years

Look at the kids all grown and left home
All educated, all working, good life
Stable life, visiting you, grandchildren
Maybe, maybe, someday
One day, many years

Look at the kids you neglected and left
All grown and educated, thanks to theirs mom
Children neglect you, wife neglect you
Your other women left with your pension
Sapped of energy, death beckoning
One day, many years

You’ll be happy for that decision you made
You’ll decry that decision you made
You’ll reminisce stupid and or the young self
One day, many years

#Ndauti wa Vaulo

THE ROOM


Many entered the room
Smelly it was and they could smell it
But they chose the room instead
The room was dimly lit
Graffiti all over the place
And they all entered the room

Maggots on the walls didn’t scare them off
They seemed to enjoy the company of the
Maggots,
They emitted an odor that made them sneeze
They scooped a spoonful maggots each

Many entered the room
They didn’t hide their faces
Bodies of the dead lying all over the place
They smiled as they entered the room
They scooped a spoonful maggots each

Many entered the room
Faeces smeared all over the walls
They touched the Faeces, yes, they touched
They highfived as they got in
They scooped a spoonful maggots each

Many entered the room
To the left they left and left some clothes
Dressed in black they left to the left
Like zombies they were intoxicated
They scooped a spoonful maggots each

They entered the room and left
They went home in the wee hours
“We enjoyed life,” they boasted
In their eyes there was a void
Tears welling in their poor eyes
Maggots crawling in their brains

Young women entered in the room
A room full of their fathers’ peers
They went to bed with their fathers’ peers
They massaged the old men’s bellies
They unzipped their fathers’ peers’ trousers
Men broke their peers ‘ daughters’ Virginity
They called it fashion, they wanted high life

Young men entered in the room
A room full of their mothers’ peers
They went to bed with their mothers’ peers
They removed the old women’s bras
They lowered their mothers’ peers’ pants
Women broke their peers’ sons’ virginity
They called it fashion, they wanted the upkeep

Young people, unmarried entered the room
They fornicated, they called it exploration
They numbed their conscience
Ooh, “Everyone is doing it,” they shouted
They became possessed with
Many souls they fornicated with

Married men and women entered the room
They abandoned their matrimonial beds
They betrayed their partners
They did adultery, they called it fashion
They abandoned their marriage covenant
“Everyone is doing it,” they whispered
They walked around smelling like a wound

Young men entered the room
A room full of young men
They expressed their pervasions
They left the natural way, a man called the other
“beautiful.” ooh, they left women and imagine
They slept together

Young women entered the room
” Why are you cradling in the other’s _?”
We were created like this
Ooh, lesbianism is their order
“And who is the man?” I ask them
They’ve killed their conscience

Bestie

Bestie snatched my lover
For so long gone was I
For months was I gone
For years was I gone
“take care of her” I told bestie
I remember the smile
Plastered on bestie’s face
A warm smile, I ignored
I understand now

For contract work left I
Now, it’s been years
To make money left I

My bestie’s been milking
Mine cows
Been digging my farm
Has sharpened his hoe
To dig my farm
The pillow beside my lover’s his now
Her lips he plays with
Her thighs he pleasures
Her milk to his fill
Bestie snatched my lover

SOJOURNER

We have one life.
No tonic to prolong?
Someday you’ll be no more,
Yes, you.
No more in this land
This land of sojourners
You’ll be no more

Twenty, fifty, forty,
Ninety, hundredth,
Healthy, sickly, bedridden,
ICU, at home, anyhowly.


All leashed potential
All unleashed potential
The wins you made
The loses you made

Sleeping, walking, watching
Traveling, eating, dancing
Yes, you.
Someday you’ll be no more

Grrr! Grrr! your cell will ring
People will be on their cells
Nobody will answer
Somebody else will answer –
“___is no more”

___known to you posting
Posting on their status updates –
RIP
They’ll look for your photos
1 million RIP’s

Your bosses replacing you
“How good you was”
_______________________
_______________________

Your relatives learning ’bout’ it
via social media.
Insurmountable agony
Agony in your loved ones

Someday you will be no more
Left the stage
Finished your story
Love, hope, faith is all we ever needed.

Votes cast

They entrusted them
At dawn, shivering, cast theirs a vote
Caught in the vicissitudes
They entrusted their cows on them
They entrusted their camels on them

Look at the cows coming home
Look at the camels coming home
So emaciated are they
Nobody didn’t care for them?

They Suckled the cows
Cut the camel’s hump
sheared the sheep
Slaughtered the fattest goats
Cooked all the steak

Ooh!!! camelus dromedarius
Mmmmh!!! goat pox
Aha!!! sheep scabymouth
The cow’s rabies?
They’re all sick?

The grunting of the camel?
Didn’t move nobody’s heart.
The mooing of the cows?
Didn’t deter them outer their glutton.
The baaing of the sheep?
Didn’t deny them their slumber.
The bleating of the goats?

Didn’t change their minds.
Here they are again
Rebranded-
“Asimio, Kenya kwisha-”
Enticing manifestos

Fine speeches
Promises, promises
Tribal campings
The same monkeys

Kinuthia resents kiprono
Why? Six thousand?
Why? mama mboga?
Hungry, angry, unemployed youth
Kill for hustler, kill for tinga

They’ll wake up early
To choose another dose
A dose of pain
They would rather pain
than ‘jakoyah
The same dose as were 10 yrs



A fall in love

Why do people fall in love?
Must it be a fall?
How should the fall be?
A fall on a smooth coach?
A thunderous one on bed full of roses?
A soft fall on the sand?
A fall that finds your lips intertwined?
A fall under acacia tree? No.
Thorns would prick your back
Let the fall be under a date- palm-tree
Our first date under a palm tree
dates up there-witnessing our date
Chocolates, ice cream-

YOUR LIFE’S A GARDEN

Your life’s a garden.
So beautiful a garden.
Full of beauty and splendor.

They’ll pee in your garden.
They’ll pooh in your garden.

Fence it;
With the best chainlink of the world.
Tend it;
With utmost care.
Water it;
With the best sprinklers of the world.
irrigate it;
With the best springs of the land.
plant it;
With the best seeds of the land.
weed it;
With the best machetes of the land.
Shelter it;
With the most expensive linen.
Feed it;
With the most expensive food.
Guard it;
With the best bodyguard of the world.
Your life’s a garden.
Invest in it.
don’t you doze off.

Kill for your garden.
Kill every time.
Kill every day.
Kill every morning.
Shoot at mediocrity.
With a pistol made in Germany.
Bomb stupidity.
With a bomb as the  one bombed Hiroshima.
Maim discord.
With a grenade made in Kenya.
Cut selfishness
With a Japanese sword.

Then there’s the harvest;
The harvest hundreds fold,
The harvest thousands fold,
Your life’s a garden.

Our Savior

Let’s tiptoe to Golgotha the higher place
Let’s leave the mess
We wanna praise Him
Let’s sing the hymn
For our sins washed

Oh, for a kiss, c’mon Judas
Gethsemane, c’mon ironshirts
Oh, for silver pieces, c’mon Iscariot
Let’s sing the hymn
For our sins washed

I know him not, this man!
What about their ears?
Oh, Peter, but for our sins washed
Let’s sing the hymn
For our sins washed

Barnabas, go home
Don’t you die for us
Christ is our savior
Crucify him, crucify him
For our sins washed

Our hearts merry
Salvation unto us
Our lips full of praises
Let’s sing the hymn
For our sins washed

Where is the redeeming momento of the man!

The beats in old man’s chest intensify
Even as his heart sinks
It is the strangest, saddest feeling
A feeling more than Chris Rock’s
A slap harder than Will Smith’s
The ass kicks his balls
A feeling of a gambler when
the cash he has bet on don’t stack up
Realizes they’ve failed him
conspiracy against him

Sharp set of branches scratch at his face
It’s a long run in the night.
The hahahaha of the hyenas frighten him
The chirping of a late bird scares him
Water trickles down his spine
down the tributary
Hehehehehehehehe the wonderment

Rocks looming up and out
of the dark forest floor
to impede his progress
Where is the redeeming momento
of the man!
Swatting the hundreds of mosquitoes
descended upon him
Maudlin tears in his eyes
Water sluicing off his hat
He pirouettes with no much effort

If I were a gate

If I were a gate I  wouldn’t allow you in
Don’t ogle and stare at me!
Am I a beauty queen?
You would wash your hands all day
You would sanitize your hands all day 
You would wash your clothes
You would remove your shoes
If I were a gate I wouldn’t allow you in

If I were a gate I wouldn’t allow you in
You would wash your hands
You would  clean your legs
You would wash your face with detol
If I were a gate I wouldn’t allow you in

If I were a gate I wouldn’t allow you in
You would shave your head
You would shave your beard
You would wear your Sunday best
You would be radiant and gloomy
If I were a gate I wouldn’t allow you in

If I were a gate I wouldn’t allow you in
I wouldn’t allow you to loiter around
My compound would be clean
You would sit under my shadow
My trees can’t withstand your presence
If I were a gate I wouldn’t allow you in

If I were a gate I  wouldn’t allow you in
to turn to the leftright
You would look straight ahead
I don’t like your gaze around my compound
Straight to the boardroom dummy
Your face must never fall

The earth is hard

The earth is hard” yes, but you don’t need to be that bitter. Everybody in the country seems to be bitter about something. A small provocation and they fume. Yesterday, I posted a picture matching outfits with my bae and everyone else was angry at me. ” Do you have show us all this?” ” wataachana” ( It will end in premium tears). Their anger is imminent flood.

People are looking for an outlet to their anger. Every time you log in to your Facebook account you expect to learn something from the posts and stories. On the contrary, guys are expressing their anger. ” Maadui zangu watanitambua” ( My enemies, come and see). People have created their own enemies. Enemies that exist in their mind. They think that there is always a person tracking their progress. I don’t mean that we don’t have enemies but hey we are exaggerating abeg.
” Najipenda nilivyo wenye wivu wajinyonge” (  I love the way I am those that are jealous hang yourself ). Who has asked you whether you love yourself or not? Why are you so insecure?

Kenyans are bitter with everything. Inflation is the order of the day. Commodities’ prices have gone extremely high. In whose hands are we safe? The memes going round about the use of cooking oil sparingly must not be solely taken as a comedy but as a satirical tool to the country’s economy.

We need healing as a country. In their journey in the wilderness, God provided for the children of Israel with manna and meat. They were supposed to collect just enough for a day. Anyone who collected more had a foul smell to resent. What does this teach us? Why can’t our leaders collect just enough for the day? The Kenyan leaders have collected more than enough and the common mwananchi is highly taxed to take care of their lavish life.

We need humanity to take lead in our country. We’ve got so many beggars in the streets. I mean the gap between the rich and the poor is so big. They are barely surviving. They do not have a place to place their heads. On the contrary, a person somewhere has more than enough acres of land lying unused in the name of keeping all these for the grandchildren. Let’s be guided by humanity.  Before anything else we are human beings.

That night

That night we couldn’t sleep
Those windows tightly closed
The door’s hinges creaked
The noise of the crickets scared us
The hiihooohiihoo of the donkeys worried us
The stray dogs barked outside
I want to write about that night
I’ve a pen and a writing pad
To unwind my mind
my mind is like a desert
full of stunted trees
A thousand small thoughts
We were afraid of mosquitoes’ zzzzzz
The noise outside was a lot
Too much for our ears.
Wish we’d gotten out
At least visit them a neighbor
At least look Yonder
Oooh!  The hiihooohiihoo of theirs donkey
Wish we’d gotten out
To them dogs and see
what was amiss
what was amiss
At least outside the net

Your smile cools down Dadaab temperatures

I want to write to write about you
tonight
extravagance of emotions
mine concentrated attention
Nobody else should read
it
In my writing escapades
In my writing adventures in the
woods
In my wild imaginations
tonight
As lonely as the moon in the
sky
I think about
you.
Vulnerable your charm leaves
me
In your eyes I saw love and
peace
In your eyes love resides
Your charm envelopes
mine heart.
Our hearts do beat
rhythmically.
I want to write about you
tonight.
Your smile cools down
Dadaab temperatures

Let’s kiss

The kiss didn’t taste sweeter
Today’s kiss is sour and bitter
yester’s kiss was sweeter
beneath the kiss were____

dismiss the feeling but the kiss.
Let’s kiss like yesterday
Let’s adduce our feelings
beneath the spasms

Let’s hold tight onto each other
Let’s remember our immortal oath
Asunder not a word to mention
why so cold tonight?

I love you and you know
I cherish you and you understand
My heart for you beats and you comprehend
my rhythmic heartbeat align with yours

I know you are mine
You know I’m yours
Let’s kiss tonight
I’ll touch you with dexterity.

In the woods

In the woods we sat
Not waiting for them
No!
All by ourselves
We prayed that it could be
be vouchsafed to us
To us who waited
Waited and hoped
Hoped not for rains but
Hoped for sunshine
Sunshine to brighten our paths

The birds chirped
To solemnize our waiting
What about the wild dogs
Sniffed at our legs
No fear could restrain us
You couldn’t resist but smile
a smile that charmed me
It smoothened my wry face
your face brightened
more than the stars


Happy new year

A new year dawns and we can only  say thank you God. The far He’s brought us, thank you God . At the verge of giving up He carried us in His hands. Our God could not give up on us. When the government couldn’t offer solution to the  crises you always came through. Even when the closest friends turned their backs on us, God was always  faithful. When our spouses were almost giving up on us, God gave us hope. When our parents were almost throwing up their hands in despair for the children they bore, you brought us back. God always bestowed faith in us. When we couldn’t see anything beyond our sight and there was fog all over, Jehovah took us through. The mountains were levelled before us. How awesome! The crooked roads were lit for us.  Oh, the energy that cannot be bought! We traveled and He guided us. He gave us sleep like babies. Like the birds of the air, He provided for us. Amidst Covid19, He gave us a reason to thank Him. Hope everlasting. He has never allowed the devil to test us beyond our strength. He has led us to accomplish our resolutions. He has granted unto us the desires of our hearts. Whatever answer He has delayed was to first grow us to the capacity to handle it. Our God is faithful. He has given us the hope to face 2022. Let’s all sing unto the Lord for He is good and His mercies endures forever. And as we usher in 2022, let our faith be rekindled. Let God’s love prevail. Let’s walk with the confidence granted unto us. As the sun rises in the morning, may our ambition, love, kindness and gentleness arise and live within us and carry us through 2022.

SEASON’S GREETINGS

Let’s tiptoe to Bethlehem, Judah
For to us a child is born, Emmanuel
For closer to God we’re brought
Let’s run to Bethlehem, Judah
I can  hear the moo of cows and them
I can  hear the baa and bleating of goats

Swaddling clothes, no royalty but yet
But yet is a royal son, a son of God
For to us a child is born, Emmanuel
No martenity ward, no guest house
In a Manger, beside them cows, sheep
But yet our Savior is born, Emmanuel

Look at the star, ooh wise men
Like them, just like them, ooh, let’s go
For to us a child is born, Emmanuel
All the gifts of royalty, let’s take them unto him
Gold, frankincense and myrrh
Let’s go and bow down unto the child
For he is the Prince of peace, Wonderful counselor.

For mine sins, for yours sins to cleanse
Our hearts to make virgin, like virgin Mary
Devoid of sin, and hope everlasting
Ooh, we’re acquitted, for to us a child is born
No more incarceration, for to us a child is born
For he is the Prince of peace, Wonderful counselor.

Season’s Greetings, let’s spread love
Season’s Greetings, let’s share with others
Season’s Greetings, let our hearts be merry
Season’s Greetings, for to us a child is born
Season’s Greetings, peace, love, kindness

Masked

We are adorned in our masks
My grandfather is wearing a mask
A mask to hide his aging jaws
My grandmother is wearing a mask
Look at the dame
A mask to hide her wrinkled dimples
We are ardoned in our masks

We are in masks because we’ve masks
My husband is in a mask
A mask to hide his excesses
But it hides his well shaved beard
I want to caress it
Look at my husband
He is masked
Oh, it’s Covid19?

We are in masks because we are afraid
My wife is in a mask
A mask to hide her pimples
But it hides her beautiful lips
I want to kiss them but
Look at my wife
She is masked
Oh, it’s covid 19?

My boyfriend has a mask
A mask he wears before the world
His heart is bruised but
the mask
Where is your mask?
A mask he wears
Oh,it’s covid 19?

‘m walking in the streets of Nairobary
And we’re in masks because
We must be in masks
Old, young, pickpockets, and you
On their mouths
On their chins
Women and them
Men and them
Children and them
We must be in masks
Oh, it’s covid 19?



Just like Samson

Look at me
Not with a sneer
Look at me
drop that confidence
blush
with a charm
on your face
a suggestive smile
twist your lips
suggestively
Look at me
Let me feel
the tenderness of
your cheeks
the softness of
your palms
Resist me not
ask me, ‘really?…….
call me by
my first name
Look at my eyes
embrace me tightly
Feel my heart beat
It beats rhythmically
more than African drums
Lay your head on my bosom
Place me on your lap
Place me on your thigh
Make me feel
Feel like Samson
Samson on Delilah’s lap
Shave my beard
Shave all my hair
Take all the deepest secrets
Shave me
Shove me
I’m all yours

Their camaraderie

“Ooh, babes, how are you doing?” the girls chuckled.  For so long the girls had missed each other. The two girls were like Ruth and Naomi. It was long time since they had such a meeting. It was going to be party after party as the saying goes. “we are going to drink them,” they said. It’s a phrase commonly used in Kenyan streets. “Tutawakunywa” (we will drink them) 

Very beautiful and well organized girls. Later, they would make their country proud by forming a charity group aimed at helping orphans. 

Their camaraderie  was the most beautiful thing that they could ever get. Since childhood they had been known all over the village as confidants . They attended the same primary school. They scored the best. Best as per the society’s expectations. Though they went to different secondary schools, their friendship did not fade with time as most of the friendships do.

They often communicated. Oh, they had a WhatsApp group dubbed, ” ultimate family” and indeed it was a family. Tied together by friendship and more abiding than they would if they were bound by blood. They shared stories about their boyfriends and trusted each other with their deepest secrets. ” Look at those girls,” someone pointed, “they can even share boyfriends.” “Away from that,” the other intercepted, ” those girls cannot bend so low”. Their parents were aware of the friendship and they actually knew that the girls’ company was safe.

However, their friendship had not always been a garden of roses. It had ups and downs. At one time there was a quarrel over a boyfriend but this didn’t make their friendship sour. They mended their relationship…

The letter

I am writing this letter to you. I know that letter writing has been overcome by time but in the 21st century I would like to write this to you.  Yesterday I didn’t get enough sleep thinking about it. It made me get out my cave and take a walk in the woods. A young man was relieving himself by the footpath. I was startled. He seemed not worried. He never took to his feet. Those are today’s children. He did not even cover his face. His farting was too loud and smelly. Forget about this son. It is a by the way.
            Nonetheless, I will write. Writing has not been a comfortable venture for me. When you get this letter, read it aloud. Close all the doors. Close all the windows. I do not want the world to hear what I have written to you. Read it in the full light because I want you to get every single word clearly. Do not read the words as a chunk but as a single entity. Every word in this letter has its sole meaning. What a beautiful letter for you!
            It’s a great morning and the birds are chirping. They are more melodious than Seventh day Adventists. Their tune is so natural. It is without human calibration. I wish to meet their choir master. Theirs is a song on how beautiful the earth is whereas our melodies are about how beautiful we are.
           I have used an executive ink. I bought this pen yesterday.  A very expensive pen. Not to write anything anything else but this letter. I will not like the proverbial ostrich bury my head and see the atrocious acts take place. You are not too young to hear this. Your mother tells me that you are still young to read this letter.
           It’s not the first time I will be writing to you. Your mother took away the other four letter. As graceful as a cat she tiptoed and took all the other letters. Oh! Your poor mother. Even as I write I am vigilant. She will read it in my hands. I am hunched on my seat and I can smell the sweet aroma of the food your mother is cooking. She is the best cook. She is from the south of river kasiwa. That is where  beautiful and hard working women come from. When you become of age that is a good place to hover
           



Son

I didn’t sleep yesterday,
thought ’bout you son,
didn’t escape mine heart,
as I looked at your mumie.

Beside me she lay,
her beautiful countenance,
I beheld.
Thought’ bout her

Thought ’bout you ,
hard you kicked
her “stomach “
son.

A world full of serenity,
A good place,
full of good people like
Kino

In Covid19 world son,
you will be born.
In the corrupt world,
you will be born.

I’ll write a letter for you.
I’ll write it after your first cry.
I’ll write it after the “cutting” of umbilical cord.
I’ll write it in the “secretest” place.

A beautiful letter.
A wonderful letter.
mumie is smiling,
“it’s lengthy, hunny”
come back to bed
She smiles

Men’s day

Thank you men for you are men.
Your muscles a fort for the women
The word echoes we men
Your bosom you provide for them women
No need for armor to guard your women
You wear the armor of God, men, we men
Women and them children secure in your hands

Thank you men for you are men.
Sons are happy when they try the shoes of
them fathers.
daughters are happy when they lay on the
bossom of them fathers.
Family so good a place

Thank you men for you are men.
So magnanimous you are men
A rib you gave them women and
a name
A society needs strong men
women and children are secure.
Strong men never batter theirs women
Stupid ones do so
Strong men come home to them wives with
bundles of joy, love, hope and happiness

Thank you men for you are men
You bring order to the society
It pains women and we men when
men rape
The hearts of women bleed when
men molest theirs daughters
The tears of women and we men shed when
men batter theirs wives
Those are not men and we men are not
happy.

Thank you men for you are men
If all men were men the world would be
orderly.
If all men were men the family would be
the best place.
The world is fucked up because men are
not men.
The word men to many men means the arsenal
between their legs.

Thank you men for you are men.
women and we men are bitter because
men in our lives left
men that mattered, our fathers, they left
We wish they were here when we were growing up
Look at theirs energy sapped by the world…

Thank you men for you are men.
Your sons and daughters want to hear your voice
They feel secure
When you home
model for them
Love them
Provide for them
Pray for them
Make the world a safe place for them
Women and we men
You are men
“man up” they always remind you when
you appear stupid and weak
Happy men’s day

Papa, why?

Good morning papa,
I saw your face turn black
as you kicked her belly.
Why did you hit mama?

Good morning papa,
mama’s hands broken,
mama’s face bruised.
Why did you hit mama?

Good morning papa,
You shout at mama,
her dignity you dispel.
Where is her worth?

Good morning papa,
so young my sisters,
full of dreams my sisters.
where is their worth?

Good morning papa,
My sisters you married off,
“dispose” you said.
Where is their worth?

Give them hope.
Show them love.
They are beautiful.
They are our mothers.
They are our sisters.
They are our daughters.
They are our wives.

A book with ten thousand words

Brightness blurs my eyes
The cave as cold as ice
Suddenly hot and lively
His glory fills the cave

His head hidden beyond firmament
His clothes shine brightly
It feels otherworldly in the cave
His glory fills the cave

His hand touches my bald head
and peace pervades my heart
and peace inexplicable and
His glory fills the cave

And hope and joy, my heart full of
and love He gives me and
gentleness he bestows in the boy
His glory fills the cave

He holds my hand and walks me
out in the still, peaceful place
He shows me a little book
A book with ten thousand words

Look at these words and
words we never utter
Look at these words and
words we never write

I took the book and
kept it in the cave and
read it every day and
A book with ten thousand words

Succor them

I watched them eat and drink
A cascade in their scenery
Made their hearts merry
Unaware of the impending darkness
Their hearts darkened too

Grim and sordid they were
Under the atmospheric cosmogony
They had put aside their agony
Sitting behind the mahogany
Their eyes sharp on their pulque

Evening like no other
The chorus of the ants muted
The chirping of the late birds
A owl on the roof next house
A bard falls in their midst

Oh! we need succor, shouted they
no peace and festivity no more
Adder bites their balls off
They run berserk
Who was their leader?

They wanted harmony but
chaos prevailed tonight
They wanted peace but
look at their poor hearts
Not vouchsafed their greatest desire

The neighbor I hosted

My neighbor had a fight so crafted
A fight with his brother; yes, his brother
A fight so long it lasted I say
I saw them ramshackled and silly
I cajoled them to stop it yesterday
They didn’t cease fire on each other.


I sheltered my neighbor
My neighbor so weathered
I gave my neighbor a room
A room built for my young child
Look at my neighbor grown fat
In the room I built for my young child


My child has grown up
My neighbor refuses to leave
To leave the room for my grown child
Look at my child so grown
Look at my neighbor so mean
He says the room is his
But did I not host my neighbor?

My neighbor has speared my wife
My wife imagine!
He says the woman is his
They had an intercourse yesterday
To kill me tonight ; yes tonight
The neighbor I hosted
But did I not host my neighbor?


I’ve fed my neighbor enough
Enough to have energy to grab mine property
I saw my neighbor with the surveyor
I saw my neighbor with a ‘Title D’
My neighbor dreams of replacing me
He is so mean my neighbor
But did I not host my neighbor?

BBC says I host him till dawn
Till there is enough light to see
Till my neighbor can heal
from  wounds of the fight
Shall I listen to them or send him away?
The neighbor has no respect
He is waiting in the valley
Ready to mock me and kill me

IZZ says that the room is his
Says I leave it to the neighbor
My child is grown and wants the room
What do I tell my child
The child of my youth
Look at me so tired and bend
Look at me so sorry of myself

My neighbor’s ejaculations with my wife
Shake the room I gave my neighbor
In the neighborhood they can hear them
They can hear the shaking of the bed
celebrating my overthrow
I can’t withstand it no more
Withstand the shame?

Desert Chronicles

Arriving at Garissa feels like the journey is over. Oops! It’s the end of the tarmac. The temperatures are so high. I had thought my home county was the hottest until I arrived at Garissa.

There is a thorough police check at Mondika. They scrutinize our IDs, our luggage are turned upside down. I think they are checking whether any of us is traveling illegally. The police check takes more than 1 hour. It’s a long hour of waiting. The refugees traveling from down Kenya undergo more scrutiny; they produce their manifest and they still have to be taken behind the police van, “for more scrutiny.”

It’s a rough road. No there is no road at all. It’s a journey to the desert. Forget about the documentaries. This is a reality. “Hey driver,” I gasp, ” don’t you break our backs.” It’s the most scary journey I have ever had. I sat beside an old man who slept throughout the whole journey; from Garissa to Dadaab. With all that speeding of the vehicle in the sand.

We arrived at Hagadera refugees camp at around 2pm. “So this is the place, ” I chuckle.
Quickly, a driver who we later get to know as Mohammad MUHUMED, picks us up. They warmly welcome us.

We are very curious. Look at us. Listen to the questions we are asking ;”How is the security in this place?”…”How many years can someone stay around here?”
All we get is a smile of assurance that everything is all right. The company of the friends is the best I could ever have. We all agree that Hagadera is the best place and we will dedicate our time to teaching these refugees.

“Hey daktari,” I gasp, “you’ve hit the core of the nose.” Corona testing is quite an experience not so good. We’re tested for covid 19 on Wednesday. We waited for a couple of days. We spent more than a week in the compound as we awaited  the covid 19 results.

The life in the desert is amazing. Life in the desert is to admire. It’s been 7 weeks and still energetic. The students are doing a CAT across all the camps.

You need to adapt to carrying a bottle of water every morning. You can fail to do anything else but don’t you ever miss a bottle of water. The temperatures are extremely high.

Even as we boarded the organization’s vehicles, to be taken to school, we could think of how fast time moves in the desert. We trailed behind the police van hoping that everything was to remain okay.

Serving among the vulnerable was the most fulfilling thing ever. But remember they click their tongues as a way of consenting. Take it easy please! In down Kenya you can almost kill a student for clicking their tongue. In the desert we lived by common sense and instincts.

We listened to the learners as they expressed themselves. Going to class and hearing their clicks as a confirmation to their understanding what you’ve taught was Carthatic.

On Thursday of 4th March, 2021,at around 9am something fishy happened. There was a commotion and noise emanating from the students. Upon peeping I saw a masked guy trying to pull a teacher out of the class. If it were not for the students’ intervention, the worst would have happened.

The argument was that the teacher who happens to be a Luo had been spotted some days earlier in the company of a Somali girl. He attempted the unimaginable. In the following day he was escorted out of the camp. It was the scariest scenario I’ve ever witnessed.

Such incidents have had occurred in the past
My friends who happens to have been around for more than ten year tells me that they had witnessed such so long a time. A teacher had taken a girl to Hanshi Hotel in Dadaab and next thing they heard was a message to collect his body in AL Ameen forest.

Living in Hagadera needed a lot of energy. To be inside the staff compound by 6pm. I would have wished to see what happens out there at night. Walking from the compound to the market and back. It’s baffling especially when someone says they had been around for more than ten years. Hagadera refugees camp!

The routine revolved around waking up, probably at 6am, taking breakfast, traveling to school, back to the Hagadera staff compound at around 5pm….

Desert Chronicles

Arriving at Garissa feels like the journey is over. Oops! It’s the end of the tarmac. The temperatures are so high. I had thought my home county was the hottest until I arrived at Garissa.

There is a thorough police check at Mondika. They scrutinize our IDs, our luggage are turned upside down. I think they are checking whether any of us is traveling illegally. The police check takes more than 1 hour. It’s a long hour of waiting. The refugees traveling from down Kenya undergo more scrutiny; they produce their manifest and they still have to be taken behind the police van, “for more scrutiny.”

It’s a rough road. No there is no road at all. It’s a journey to the desert. Forget about the documentaries. This is a reality. “Hey driver,” I gasp, ” don’t you break our backs.” It’s the most scary journey I have ever had. I sat beside an old man who slept throughout the whole journey; from Garissa to Dadaab. With all that speeding of the vehicle in the sand.

We arrived at Hagadera refugees camp at around 2pm. “So this is the place, ” I chuckle.
Quickly, a driver who we later get to know as Mohammad Muhumed, picks us up. They warmly welcome us.

We are very curious. Look at us. Listen to the questions we are asking ;”How is the security in this place?”…”How many years can someone stay around here?”
All we get is a smile of assurance that everything is all right. The company of the friends is the best I could ever have. We all agree that Hagadera is the best place and we will dedicate our time to teaching these refugees.

“Hey daktari,” I gasp, “you’ve hit the core of the nose.” Corona testing is quite an experience not so good. We’re tested for covid 19 on Wednesday. We waited for a couple of days. We spent more than a week in the compound as we awaited  the covid 19 results.

THE BEDROOM SOILED BY VASHA… Episode 1


Remorseful, I banged the door behind me. He had already fainted after I had hit him on the forehead. I didn’t know it would escalate to such height. Luckily, the children were away in their grandparents’ compound. The questions ringing in my head now were whether this is really what I wanted. Mutiso lying there breathless, his eyes not moving, a fixed gaze at me. I had felt his left breast and there was no reverberation.

We had met several years ago. Apart from his dark complexion, nothing more charmed me to the young man. It was in a friend’s funeral that we met. From his stare at me I could infer that he meant to have an intercourse with me. From my vantage point of view i saw him plaster a smile. It was all meant for me! I felt flattered or I was naive.

Within two weeks everything was set to its course. Things had moved quite fast. He was imbued with a desire to give me the palatial life that I so desired. Having been born in a family where struggle was the order of the day, this was a great win for me, for us, he could help educate my young siblings.

Yesterday we had slept doors open. ” I don’t know what you are talking about,” Mutiso had said.
” It shouldn’t worry you because you never even cared an iota at first,” I had replied.
As he placed his hand on my shoulder I felt as if it were a log on my shoulders. It was not the same hand that romantically caressed me. As we kissed, it tasted sour. Not the same kiss that I was used to.” I’m sorry, ” he uttered. Heretofore I had made my calculations which could forever cost my peace.

I tried to restrain myself. Keeping mum, I got out of the bed and made for the restroom. I didn’t know what I exactly wanted to do. Maybe get in the bathtub. Something to redirect my feelings. Sitting room was not the best place to sleep in; not after our quarrel. The children’s room was there. But this too could have had bad impression to the children. They were old enough to join the dots.

Last year we had exchanged blows in the sitting room for the children to walk in unannounced. They were still young. How could we descend to such a low level. But he wanted to drive some sense in me and I couldn’t just sit there as he beat me. It was the first time that he called me by my second name. I knew that something was amiss. For the last five years he had never addressed me by my second name.

At first I had thought that it couldn’t be true that Mutiso was having an affair with my best friend. A man I so much cherished. I trusted my friend so much. I thought it was dent to my husband’s reputation. I dismissed such allegations as mere envy. How so? Were the questions that lingered in my mind. My poor heart missed a beat.

A friend we held so dear. I had invited her to our house. But was she not dating Mutua? I couldn’t see her as a threat to my marriage. After all she was Mutiso’s sister’s friend. Therefore, there was no reason to suspect her. There was no reason to bar a friend.

I couldn’t imagine that Mutiso would fake a business trip to take Kalekye to Naivasha. As it trended in the social media platforms, little did I know that I could be caught pants down. That it could happen to me too. We had laughed about it and people made nasty jokes about men taking their ‘mpango wa kando’ to Vasha.

I had even confided in Kalekye about writing an article in reference to Vasha Chronicles. The Subaru narrative. We owned a Subaru but such thoughts as my hubby soiling our matrimonial vows were far from my mind. It had never occurred to me that he could have the audacity to even think about it. My entrusted hubby? No way! Kalekye had even confirmed that my husband could be the last person to do such a thing.

I have had a great deal of information on how to hide murder. I had watched so many movies on murder but those were mere scripts. I had killed in practical. I had killed my husband. I had ended the life of the father of my children.

Mutuku, the first born was 8 and in grade 4. A very brilliant boy; a very
attribute of his father. A chatterbox who kept us awake with his recount of so many stories…

Desert Chronicles

The journey was indubitably long. Woke up at 4.30am to prepare for the would be harrowing journey. ” At what time is the vehicle departing?” my friend calls…”Oh! Diamond coach bus will pick you up at Kenyatta road stage,” he says.

The group at Kahawa Wendani were left behind by the bus. I was almost left behind . Our journey to Dadaab refugees camp turns out to be an exploration, sorry, an adventure. Of course we have heard of so many stories about ‘… habaab.’

The signing of the contract forms appeared like making a death wish. Have you ever written a will? Relax then. I had never imagined working in Dadaab at any point in my life. We won’t discuss a lot about the journey from Nairobi to Garissa. Maybe we can mention Thika, Makongeni, Matuu and Mwingi…

The Dadaab refugees camp Chronicles

Sometimes I didn’t get energy to write anything down. To explore my thoughts to the optimum. To interrogate my subconscious mind and try to understand the abundance therein. The thoughts could choose to be private to the self. Heretofore the life in Dadaab has been good save for the fear of unknown. I could sit and overthink. In a moment of nostalgia go through my diaries and album. Try to reminisce those moments of life when I wished to grow big and be as independent as I am. This is the moment I become vulnerable with my thoughts. The fact hits me that I am not growing younger but older. The other day I saw the guy in the mirror and I knew that years have really gone. Hahaha! It’s a private reminder though.

My green cat

Our cat was such a playful thing
A green cat
Never seen other of the kind
Our cat so playful

I watched it tease rats before tearing and
I saw it play with the lizards and
I watched it gossip with our dog
Our cat so playful

Then one cloudy afternoon
One cloudy afternoon our cat
Our cat went missing
Our playful cat

Where is our cat so playful?
Where is our green cat?
I tried posters it didn’t work
Our playful cat







Pandora

Let’s all get out and see the darkness
Let’s tiptoe lest they hear of our coming
I can hear of their whisper
They can’t see us
What are they planning?

Let’s not listen to their whisper
Let’s look up to the stars
The stars are looking at us
They are wondering why we are out
Why are the stars wondering?

I want it written in the Pandora paper
That we are out here listening
Their intercourse is heated and
The ground around them is shaking
Why are the stars looking at us?

The trees too are looking at each other
They want their stories in Pandora paper too
They are never happy with the woodcutter
Look at the trees too
Why is it too dark to see them?

Let’s get back in before they see us
Let’s just read it in the Pandora paper
It is too dark out there
Clouds are forming
maybe rains too