journey through

TILL WHEN? They hear you every day. You praise him in the morning at the waterhole and in the evening when you plait your hair with your group of girls. You speak of his oval head, his muscled body and his powerful hips. You sing songs of praise to his Adam’s apple and speak of how his massive arms drive you crazy. Why though if i may ask do you deny you love him? Till when will you keep saying you just like seeing him but no more? Why is it that you look down on the ground when he passes by? Till when then you trust your heart and walk up to him? You hate it when you see him walking about with anybody else but can’t approach him when he is alone. It hurts you every time you hear some lady expressing interest in him. Conquer your pride woman, conquer your pride. Till when will you run from your heart? You’ll run today and tomorrow but the day after it’s going to turn into a trot till you finally collapse, for when you leave, you leave behind a part of you. Why keep waiting and

I SHALL NOT STAND ASHAMED My people, they wear trousers at stomach level and walk with tobacco pipes sticking out their mouth. Their children walk around with big bellies yearning for a de-worming session and in oversize baby clothes. Their wives strut around in big black rubber shoes and long dresses sweeping the ground and the old men, they have refused to adapt to the new age. They still walk about in dirty blankets and walking sticks carved by their great grandfathers. My people value their wisdom and the knowledge of the old but those who don’t understand it term it backward and mediocre. They respect their elders and obey their parents. They love their siblings and play with the little children. They have been taught to live and to love and though there isn’t plenty, they have been taught to be satisfied with the little they can glean from the giant pot of nothingness. My people, they have taught me to take pride in my heritage and to smile through prejudice and emotiona

I heard them say I heard them say, I heard the villagers say, that your nose always finds its way into other people’s businesses. I heard them say that your mouth is quick to report what your eyes are yet to see and ears yet to hear. The villagers, they say you know everybody’s friend and enemy, that you know how every pot boils and every soup thickens, dear village rumour mill, why should you go through all the trouble, of knowing why the newest bride in the village cannot give birth? Or why the chief and his neighbour had a war of words yesterday? I heard them say, that you leave your house unattended and your children unwashed. I heard them say yesterday’s utensils are still outside caked with leftovers and mould. They say your husband was sent away from the council of elders because he was spreading lice to the old men. Why do you come to my house and help my wife wash my clothes, then walk to the shamba and dig by her side till late in the day then walk back to your home an

Fan the flames I know you know the reason why my hearth is so very cold, you know why my mouth smiles so warily and my eyes turn away when you look deep into them. I know you can very well hear behind my deep male voice a tiny boy begging not to be let go of, to be given a chance to make something out of nothing. I know you notice it every time my voice starts breaking when you want to give up on me, you see my hands stretching out but they never really get to you. I know you see it in my eyes how much i love you but am afraid. I know you get tired when i call you back only to let you go. The embers in my hearth are dormant. My latest experience left a rain in my house, she did put out the flames that once roared from morning to evening. I shall not be afraid of saying i fear, love song after love song, poem after poem but still, my heart is hard as stone. Things are changing again and i am finding a reason to believe in love. My faith grows one step at a time, one bit in a da

Don’t let them know Look up towards the sky, look up now. What are you doing among the dusts and the ashes? Why is your face unwashed and clothes tattered? What have you become? What happened to that strong lady who would withstand anything? How, just how did love reduce you to this crying mess? Look at me, beautiful lady, have you seen the dimples on your face and the sparkle in your eyes? Look into the mirror, below that grime on your face, what do you see? I see a beautiful lady, a woman who makes heads turn and knees tremble, don’t let them know, don’t let them know that you are broken. How much will it cost you to stand up and dust yourself, to close your eyes to the past and open up for the future? All i am asking from you is to stand up and walk. Don’t give the world a chance to laugh at you and scoff at your ‘vain beauty’. Don’t let the infidels scoff at your tears and look at you with spite when you traverse the streets. Don’t let the man responsible walk around gloatin