First Words Read online

  Body Politic

  The body

  as statuesque as may be

  So much it carries:

  The mind

  the psyche

  the soul

  the anatomy

  And...

  The secrets,

  Deceptions.

  The diagnosis showed it was cancerous

  Mammography for prophylaxis commenced

  only to realize it was osteosarcoma

  A malignant tumour, masquerading

  Deceiving, that’s it,

  the body politic.

  It keeps a vortex of secrets

  The body,

  A labyrinth of grotesque life

  A hideous mask of deception

  Mistaking mercies for love

  And privileges for rights

  Yet, maturity of the body politic

  Is as elusive as dreams

  A silhouette

  Dancing so far away

  Far, far out of reach.

  First to Die

  Mama tell me why

  you had to do it

  Despite all the anti-campaigns

  had you had to be so adamant?

  The vicar, more often than not

  had preached ‘Life’s sacred’

  you’re a devote Christian

  Yet a pro-choice activist

  Mama why

  Play Jekyll and Hyde?

  I too had love to give.

  I wanted to be a boy

  Prince-charming so romantic;

  I loved beauty, the inner beauty

  Wanted to be a girl

  So angelic to be admired, loved

  But you never gave me the chance

  Mama tell me why

  It had to be me

  To be the first to die.

  You Had Nothing to Give

  Your father and I

  Out of sheer earthly pleasure

  Made you beyond our realm

  Never wanted a son like you

  Or a daughter the likes of your sister

  I could’ve killed you

  Actually, should have

  But I loved you

  As ought

  Thought you too had love to give

  Let you live

  But now I regret why

  I didn’t

  Or dump you

  Dandora was not full

  And kanju has

  Allowed private companies

  To collect garbage:

  I had this feeling, woman intuition

  You had nothing to give.

  I Hate You

  Why should it be always

  War amongst creation?

  A malicious wave out of nowhere

  Rises against the calm sea

  Whales swallow the minnows

  Monsters pray with prey:

  A sister flower would be ostracized

  If it disdained a brother flower.

  You forever sullen me, break my heart

  I never miss you when you take leave

  I am so sick of playing the cool Joe

  Of giving you another chance

  Maybe I am the one to forgive myself

  For I do hate you with passion...

  The Discovery

  Mama tell me why

  Your eyes are clouded wit’ tears

  I did mean no disrespect

  To ask you this, Mama

  I know I’m that kid

  You were in high school then.

  I am so sure like I know

  the memories are so fresh

  like the morning dew;

  you can’t, and won’t, forget

  the frail cries of a little thing

  the doll that was to grow

  the big doll that is me

  just but to ask ...

  whose dad mom?

  If your heart’s broken, Mama

  Please don’t curse me

  I just felt I need to know.

  Mama you can’t know

  Mama you can’t see

  What lurks behind bastards!

  A million names are mine

  I know dad is not my father

  Mama, please ...

  Just the truth from you.

  The discovery was so debilitating

  Have lived with it for long

  Dreading the pain of asking

  Fearing the aftermath of impudence

  I just can’t get away from it

  The need of knowing it

  It haunts the soul of my soul

  It is not my fault, not yours:

  To them I am ostracized

  I resent myself ... am I supposed?

  Just for once and no more

  No more shall you hear of me

  Just confirm my fears ...

  At Last

  Seasons come and pass

  Flowers bloom and wither

  Time passes

  Then comes the reckoning day

  To some the remorseful day

  With it the change of things

  Never ever to be the same again;

  The shine of the sun turns rain

  Cloudless night cloudy

  Moonlight gloomy:

  At last the day came

  The day of the pact, our pact

  That day is today, to be exact

  Things will never be the same again.

  The Living Dead

  My friend, the last time I checked

  why is it always

  I just exist to you, not living.

  I am a sheer nondescript creature,

  Obscure

  Yet at moments best to you

  you call for my unwanted aid?

  Am I crucial at nightmarish times?

  Tell me I’m the one who notice you not

  tell me I’m the one who’s not the living dead.

  Watch out

  I wonder

  I’m I a son of fate,

  Or victim of circumstances?

  Maybe you can tell me.

  Nothing that I do do I regret

  Everything worthy of doing

  I do it from consciousness.

  Why do you see a failure in me

  when I lose all the evidence, proof that I tried

  when I fail to succeed?

  You think I am an epitome?

  You think I am emulative?

  Nay! You’re just but wrong

  what just happened

  that’s just a horrible warning

  Just watch out!

  Don’t follow me.

  Alien

  Tell me I am from mars, or some other planet

  Tell me I am an alien, this isn’t my home;

  How can I be so damn demanding?

  You ask!

  Maybe I don’t know yet

  that this is my home;

  If am not an alien, why then, tell me

  is my mother looking down upon me?

  Banishing me?

  Long before the cock crows I am up

  Even before I dream,

  By dawn the house is mopped

  Laundry done and on the line to dry

  Breakfast for my family ready

  Yet I go to school

  With my sleeping brother.

  Long after midnight I crawl to bed

  by then I’ve done more than enough

  you need to listen to my sleeping brother.

  The other day Dad touched me

  Teacher Kamau did that yesterday

  when I told you, Mama

  you pinched my nose

  Am I an alien?

  Or did the discovery channel say

  I was from the space

  that all of you want to touch my innocence?

  Today Uncle Ben called me to his house

  He wanted to send me to the shop <
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  I never knew

  He wanted to play mom and dad with me;

  it was so painful to be mother

  the police are still looking for Uncle Ben.

  Am I an alien to you, Mother?

  The beating I get, I guess

  you want to know,

  whether aliens feel pain

  like humans do.

  They say I’ve nothing to give

  only my brother can

  and you listen to them

  why do you look down upon me?

  They found Uncle Ben

  He is at the police station

  Tomorrow I’ll go and say what he did to me

  I don’t want to go,

  Don’t want to see him

  I know he isn’t my uncle

  I know I’ve no one of my kind,

  I am an alien.

  God Forgive Kenya

  Grabbing of the land, career of the influential

  On the thrones tyrants and avaricious; they lead

  Debauchery, sham and sullying we don’t need.

  Facades and masks dominate, are full of greed

  Obscurantism the mission of government of the Land

  Rabble-rousers, hidden discreetly by tools of power

  Garner guns and sponsor criminal gangs, they kill

  Injustice to those who can’t buy natural justice

  Victimization of those with nothing, there’s no peace

  Exaction, economic dwindle; human rights sullied;

  Killers daily are recruited, trained for assassinations

  Execution of the rising sun of the nation;

  Narcissism the style of the men in coalition

  Yammering with all possible means hasn’t yet helped

  Almighty God, Forgive Kenya, attain for us redemption.

  I’m Not Guilty

  I used to be, an ardent believer in justice

  But now I am a victim of dire injustice

  Feels like I’m caught in the middle;

  My eyes open and I realize

  I am not innocent, not yet guilty

  And while I’m in between

  I am not guilty.

  There’s no need to judge me

  It’s time you learnt to be patient

  I’ve done so much than I know

  So don’t tell me I am guilty as charged

  I am not innocent, not yet guilty.

  All you need is facts

  Cold hard incriminating evidence

  To put me behind bars;

  But if you take your time

  To look in my distant past

  That’s so real to me than the present

  You’ll find in dossiers

  This guy is not innocent.

  I am not innocent

  Don’t be taken in by my upstanding

  Not yet guilty

  I am just trying to find my innocence

  All you need is facts

  Cold hard incriminating evidence

  And while I’m in between

  I am not guilty.

  The Soldier Mystique

  He’s an ambassador of peace, yet a warmonger

  a soldier is a bundle of contradiction.

  He defends the nation against external aggression

  He does nothing about the internal security.

  He’ll spend days in the jungle training

  spend months idle in the barracks;

  He’ll be critically ill confined in sick bed

  When war comes put on steel helmet on his head.

  He’s strong and well-muscled, yet weak

  He’s simple and kind, yet crafty and cruel

  He’ll walk all night, then sleep the whole day

  He’ll give out his rations to the hungry,

  Yet beat them up when ordered to.

  He’d command a battalion, be a lackey to his mistress

  He’s stronger than brandy, milder than milk

  He’ll tackle a battalion of enemy in war, be tackled by his wife alone in the house.

  He’ll avoid all the roads, walk miles in the jungle

  be rained on in the field, carry an umbrella in the streets;

  He’d be macho under torture and pain

  Cry a river when she leaves.

  He’ll fight with his friends in war

  Hire his enemy for an informer.

  He’d pose as a friend, work as a spy

  He’d swear allegiance to the nation,

  Be hired for informer by the enemy.

  He’d stand for the enemy’s bullet,

  Run like hell from his wife’s nagging.

  He’d build a bungalow, spent his life dug in

  He fights hard and wins battles

  the president collects his medals.

  He guards his commanders at night

  His family is daily attacked by burglars.

  He’ll kill millions of enemy soldiers

  Indicted with human atrocities for collateral damage.

  He bivouacs anywhere in the jungle

  Arrested for loitering in the streets

  He’s a monster, yet a hero

  He’s a loner, yet a legend

  He’s the devil, yet an angel

  He’s mortal, yet a mystique.

  He’s a peacemaker, yet a warmonger

  In spite of his behaviour,

  He’s a saviour.

  Best Friend

  I had a gentle friend,

  Long live my beloved fiend

  The archenemy I had for a friend

  I love you, my gentle one.

  I had a friend, my loveliest friend

  I placed him on a pedestal

  He ground me to the ground

  My loveliest archenemy.

  I was a friend in need

  He was a friend in deed

  All the time I gave heed

  Whenever he called on me.

  We shared all our all

  those days with my gentlest foe

  He was my sandwich

  and I was the witch

  He was a blank cheque

  I did not bounce him

  I did everything for him

  Slapped the devil a good one

  for the senseless fiend.

  My best friend, the fiend

  Knew me not, despite the intimacy

  He envied me, I had supremacy;

  A mystic, a Brainiac

  Seemed a clairvoyant,

  A man of the people,

  To be heard in folklore

  Legend for generations to come.

  This best friend, this serpent

  He hatched a plan, a plot

  with other academic mutants

  to terminate me, see me

  walk the untrodden path to downfall.

  Conspired to destroy me

  Oh thee best friend, my beloved fiend.

  He was devil incarnate

  A green snake in green grass

  Very crass

  Ensured I burnt to cinders:

  From his traps I got a clean break

  Called me a witch, devil worshipper

  All ‘cause he failed to fathom me

  Oh my beloved adversary.

  So now I know you, my friend

  I have never had such a friend

  Wearing a mask of the innocent

  Trapped in the body of a fiend

  Preaching everywhere virtue

  Oh my beloved friend, my lovely foe.

  The Price

  A clairvoyant you would be,

  Warn them of impeding peril, looming deaths

  At last call you a devil worshipper.

  A man of God you would be, a mystic

  They would venerate you for your spirituality

  Preach on mountain tops you’re an occultist.

  A philanthropist you would be


  A benevolent to the poor

  Accuse you of black market operations.

  You are white-maned

  Your mouth restores the justice of the land

  You listen and settle all their disputes, and

  They accuse you of averting justice

  When you favour no one but the truth.

  You’re the one who teaches them the way

  Tomorrow comes the day

  They accuse you of activities profane

  ‘Cause you did not fall into their traps.

  You’d fight together in war

  He’d spy on you to the enemy.

  They used to laugh and love you

  Today they sneer and loath you

  He was your best friend, he’s the fiend.

  They are the jury, your peers; they send you to gaol,

  you’re guilty till proven innocent.

  You’re the loving husband

  she is a tramp,

  You’re the impeccable wife

  He has an array of lovers;

  and calls you babe.

  Oh, the price of being good!

  Money, Money, Money!

  From the high of the skies above

  To the deepest of waters below

  The sun still in the sky above and shining

  The moon in the starry night and glimmering

  Man goes in search of the silver shining metal.

  Armed with weapons of mass destruction

  The only companion in the hours of night

  Man embarks on dangerous missions

  In search of money, the shining penny;

  My sister leaves at dusk, roams the streets at night

  Chasing shadows of lust till the break of the day

  In search of the shilling.

  I got this job in the city,

  no more starving for my family

  At month end I went to send something home

  I got robbed of everything

  Beaten and left for dead;

  The following month I was careful

  But I met this lady, fork-tongued she was

  She promised to take me to a money multiplayer

  It was a good idea.

  Concentration turned to consternation

  When I realized I had lost everything

  In search of the dollar bill.

  Yesterday I saw Stephen, my friend

  The guy has what they call education:

  He has many PhDs—

  He was pushing a handcart.

  My cousin came the other day to the city

  He thought I was some ice-eating permanent secretary

  I advised him to do something in the city: he’s a hawker.

  He tells me how my children back home

  Without food they groan and tumble to bed

  And weep all night saying ‘Daddy abandoned us’

  In search of the dinar.

  The other day I saw this school girl

  Garbed in immaculate blue and white

  Take a crumbled bank note from a snow haired man

  He was not her father—he kissed her the mzungu way

  And then they went together in his old Merc.

  Today, six months later, I saw her,

  She was not in uniform but loose maternity dress.

  They roam the streets

  Beggars and wagers

  With a crowd of them

  Mosquito-legged, railway-lined-ribs kids

  Begging for a cent.

  Daily, dirty as I am, am begrimed with dirty puddle

  By the driver of the Cadillac on the road