One day

One day
not today

I'll scream.

One day

* * *

Monrovia, Liberia, Dec 2018

A priest in love

She fed me food that brought me home

Food that mama left in uncovered pots

She smiled and tried to add some more

my plate was slow she deserved to know

I hoped and wished to stay for more

her hands were full of gifts to give

I know she keeps her rhythm in debt

to love and heal our scruffy days

Bless her cooking and bless her smile

A gift in Makeni to a priest in love

* * *

Makeni, Sierra Leone, December 2019

The blood, of a girl

Theres a man, that's holding a knife, 
in front of 
a girl, 

that's in front of 
a pub, 

that's in front of 
a church, 

that's in front of
a school, 

that's in front of
a clinic, 

that's in front of 
a bank,

that's in front of 
a cell, 

that's in front of 
a pool,

that's full of 
blood,

the blood of
a girl.

* * *

In Memory of Sharon and Monica
October, 2018

The Fate of the Struggle

Yesterday I missed Zamola's birthday
Forgot its three years since I welcomed the man

Life has been terrible looking at the past choices
Availed in sour doses from relations I so trusted

Been running a ratrace whose end never seems
Been preoccupied with practicalities of restoration for a life long gone

Pain never leaves especially when you are taught
That forgiveness is a gift whose promise never holds

I wish him a happy life whose comfort is my goal
Struggles of survival have kept me away from dreaming

Love changes faces whenever needs overwhelm demands
Still my heart bleeds for the track lost in lusts

For things to remain simple a man must forge ahead
No making noises when deadlines serve your days

But the boy will just grow in a world I'll design
Get better chances than the ones I've lost in hope.

Faith in the Almighty, a core pillar in this struggle
It's for Him to show me love that I can give to the young lad

Praise is your honor and that's your heritage
For your name is your gift to last you till eternity.

* * *

Happy belated Birthday Sifa
5-9-2018
Coldsprings Hotel, Homabay

My Sunset

On the day my apple died,
I lost my sunset.

On the day my captain lied,
I gave her consent.

On the day my carrot cried,

I locked my closet.

On that day,

That fateful Thursday,

I was born,

Again

***

Nilotic-Rubicon Bondo - 19^th May 2018

Write my name

I'll write my name on a strand of your hair.

That single knot that ties your flair.

I'll choose my fate on pain that's near.

That tear that drips and rolls down there.

Am too afraid of being compared;

To one whose choice would bring despair.

Chance will happen to a woman who bears,

The pain of birth on love that's shared.

I raised my hope on things not clear.

Thought I was free from bliss so near.

Worry is a cause we know we can't dare.

To bring her home you'll have to show care.

I'll write the name on that strand of hair.

The strand that sings and jumps,
my dear.

* * * *

April 2018, Oasis, Nairobi 

Lady bird's list

Three things a lady-bird should provide;

ripe tomatoes,
for the fourth floor attempt

sweetened black tea,
after a night so intense

a freshly moistened skin,
on that landscape so serene.

A lady bird sings
A lady bird seeks,
let the man speak,
listen.

* * *

Ngeri beach, Mbita, Suba
22nd Feb 2018

My faded favorite socks

She warned me hard water would fade my favorite socks
only a seme woman can care to such an extent

I soaked and washed then hung them to dry
Forgot the sun and left them for the moon

The next day it rained and they were damp again
redeemed them in the afternoon with dust and shame

The wind from the lake blew one away
Now am left with one my needs are done

A faded left sock has little use this June
a pack of three for the first to breathe

The first to be born will seal the bond
a pure blood genius, a city overseas

I underestimated hard water 
when it comes to fading socks

She did warn me, that seme woman,
her disposable wisdom now recycled, 

in froth.

* * * 
Sindo beach, Mbita
20th Feb 2018

My valentine road

I spent my Valentine with two roads in the Kenyan countryside,

Two roads you hold your breath as you navigate with grit,

How come they made them this narrow?

How come they made them this thin?

Two roads you’d love to hate were it not for the drama;

Rongo to Migori and Katito to Ahero junction.

Those two flattened snakes,

So selfish and pale.

I’ll write about the Rongo to Migori road,

She is selfish and pale and seems to love it.

Cars squeeze and squirm within her narrow shoulders,

What a scary encounter for both driver and passengers.

Three fat bottomed women clutch tightly to the rider,
Who perched on the fuel tank, 

Commands the bike to gyrate their hips in rhythm. 
The rider seems to relish this as he jerks it and whistles,

Racing the Guardian bus, its a horror to witness.

Sugar cane tractors belch thick dark smoke in contempt,

The burly drivers punish the creaking gears with impunity.

As they pull the overloaded trailer stuffed with thin cane for the factories,

Mischievous children in exposed buttocks run to snatch the dangling sugarcane sticks.

It’s a mad world here,

and no one seems to care.

They should expand this road.

The World bank should pay.

Ranen center is a dusty intersection.
The headquarters of Ranen SDA Conference 
and a hotbed of Migori 
politics.

Idle motorbikes parked under rickety shed,

Acknowledging the generous donor who lost in the nominations:

‘This shed was donated by Hon. So and So’

Fleeced public funds and left us this short-lived monument.

I leave Ranen center past lush sugarcane plantations,

Punctured by the giant chimneys from Sony Sugar Factory.

A sleeping giant neglected in shame,

A victim of corruption, nepotism will finish us.

With determination and courage,

Sony Sugar still billows thick diesel smoke.

Crushing the cane,

promising a sweetness long forgotten.

It is harvest season in Awendo, and the town is alive.

Skimpily dressed vampires have raided the town,

With thick thighs and plum breasts, peppered with cheap perfume,

The hedonic colonizers are now in town, the charged sponsors nod in affirmation.

Mannerless men can’t hide their disturbing appetites,

Their fat wallets impatient and bulging,

The voluptuous invaders are welcome to stay.
Yes.

The foreigners will lick them dry,
but that’s not a problem, 
sugarcane money is sweet 
when shared.

Polygamous Legio Maria priests and prophetesses litter the streets,

In purple and yellow robes, inseparable from their rosaries.

They march in single files, soldiers of jah army,

With wooden swords and shotguns shooting imaginary foes.

They chant incantations to scare away the spirits,

As their dreadlocked barefoot 'pope' jumps and shrills in a trance.

Those are their subdued and humble women poking you with a book,

To solicit for alms to support the 'holy father'.

Awendo Equity bank ATM has winding queues,

Impatient customers must withdraw tonight.

Chemists are crowded for condoms, HIV tests and birth control,

Skyways motel, booked to capacity.

At the Easy coach booking office new passengers arrive,

Njeri and Mwikali too have come for their share.

The sugarcane money is too sweet to ignore,

They know the thirsty farmers have a thing for light-skinned imports.

Nereah Hotel, a perfect hideout,

From marauding housewives who ransack the town,

To redeem at least some coins from their frolicking husbands,

Who in the morning we’ll collect, drugged and licked dry.

Njeri and Mwikali must leave with the first morning bus,

Mission accomplished, in an opposition stronghold!

Their next target is Kericho,

The tea farmers too have received their boom!

We leave Awendo to its devices and fate,

Rejoin the selfish bitumen snake, cold and pale.

She leads us through more green plantations,

Past Uriri parish, we are now 50 Km or so from Migori town.

From a distance to my west I see the impatient hills of Kisii,

With fond memories of friendships long lost.

Mosocho had it twists but they turned out for the best,

Hope the banana farmers keep off this road.

Tinted Probox ninjas will give you ulcers,

Rugged bullies defiant to the bone.

Graduated riders now on public transport,

Packed to capacity even the driver shares his seat!

We pass St. Joseph Rapogi the pride of Uriri,

A sleeping giant struggling to wake up,

As idle school girls roam the winding village paths,

Adolescents at risk to exploitation and abuse.

Downhill we descend past Rakwaro Seminary towards Migori town,

Potholes of defiance will tame your speed,

As neatly arranged trees swallow the road ahead.

Giant concrete power poles puncture the quiet sky:

(whispers) A.n o.v.e.r.p.r.i.c.e.d i.n.n.o.v.a.t.i.o.n t.a.x.p.a.y.e.r.s w.i.l.l p.a.y t.h.e h.u.s.t.l.e.r

Iron thatched roofs dot the undulating hills,

You know you are near Migori town when you see the giant brick mounds.

A lonely green mosque seems curiously out of place,

Next to Friends Church Emusanza that offers services at a fee.

Services the domineering billboard, 

announces 

with glee.

At Stella Stage there is a refurbished public toilet,

Next to a video hall balancing a blue satellite dish on its rickety roof.

Chelsea vs Hull City at ten shillings tonight,

A sizzling encounter, Sportpesa Millionaires analyse the odds.

It’s a scandal, 

so obvious 

yet they keep on betting.

I’ll sell my chicken and place my bet,

Over 1.5 and goal-goal, am sure to make the multi-bet.

If I invest five hundred shillings I’ll win 11.5 Million,

Since Opiyo from Kibera placed one hundred and won 230 M.

You’ve reached Migori town since the road has widened,

As the selfish snake hands you over without notice,

To the potbellied traffic police raising the hand of need,

To flag PSVs for the fifty shillings bribe.

Sunrise Center, DSTv, Startimes, National Bank,

Migori County Lodge, VCT, ODM Office, MPESA Here!

That’s Migori for you,

A business hub so strategic, they keep on coming back,

Despite the abuse, 

at the hands of 

'the people's protestors'.

Its hot this morning and hawkers dominate the roadside,

Glad to be in Migori I can see burnt tires on the bridge,
There was definitely a protest,
They want the general back.

My journey ends here,
I've left that selfish road Behind.

We’ll meet again on the road, 
from Katitu to Ahero Junction.

Goodbye my dear,

That's where I spent my valentine.

Flowers would have been nice,

But am out of season.

***

Rongo-Migori road

14^th Feb 2018

  

Maybe they know

Maybe they should know,
that I also feel cold on those lonely nights
when their lies no longer 
hold

Maybe they don't know
that am good to look at 
those days I bring home the 
dough

Maybe they can't know 
that I knead the bread 
that my neighbors chew in 
awe

Maybe they will know
that I once held their hand 
in a quest to have 
more

Maybe they know,
that i shouldn't have called them back 
when i knew they were never to be 
moaned

But I don't think they know, 
maybe.

***
Nilotic Place, Bondo
20th Jan 2018

Proud MCAs

New nominated MCAs
Products of tribal arithmetic 
and nominations gone bad

Innocent scavengers whose luck runs cold
Worshipping tin gods, 
perched on khat

Creatures of the nigth bring home the bait
Our mothers look so disappointed when their sins, 
reflect on us

Soon we will discover how fate brings back
the little things that you left behind when you thought they had, 
your back

* * * 
Pride Hotel, Bondo
Jan 2018