Puffed paths pass through a rich man’s gut.
Starved stars strut in poetic poverty and sass.
Ni ngori kwa head man anayefanya kazi kupata head rest.
But the chief point remains the existence of a cozy nest.
May we borrow in unity but pay individual taxes.
Piecing together redials of liberty from missed texts.
Figurative language becoming reality to fit in boxes.
Ticks for the win as they suck through our losses.
Perfect pal pats the back that soon receives the kicks.
As past proverbs find the man at the mic through teary sums.
Bas bas bas… mwanaume tulia hakuna haja ya kutense.
Rebuilt bridges burn taking down those on the fence.
Liars are firm as they fill tills for they believe the words they say.
The victims perpetually disillusioned when they finally have their day.
A bite of the national dessert where everyone wants to pick a bone.
Few want to work for the home yet everyone wants the throne.
Puff puff pass the responsibility requires a dose of bluntness.
That’s why we intercede but never have the time to confess.
Wasi wasi ukipata utaambiwa uinue macho kwa clouds.
Building speed tracks in the air in search of a higher ground.
The snaking smoke gifts vivid dreams from night terrors.
Cursing the waking hours with the weight of a turn of errors
Entangled in a web of our choices that sometimes makes us sensitive.
Memory evaporating when reminded our voices are truly representative.
In the end we smash the mirror to avoid our reflections; forgetting we are all sinners under the tree of our selections.
Tag: politics
THE ANTHEM, AND THEM.
Oh God of all creation, poor or rich, from the wet sands of the Coast to the dry sands of the North.
Bless this our land and nation with rains for our fruits and sun for our growth.
Justice be our shield and defender, even when judges won’t defend us.
May we dwell in unity of all tribes as one, recognizing the origin of the fuss.
Peace and liberty be truly felt than just words on paper.
Plenty be found within our borders, more than enough meat, for our newspaper.
Let one and all arise awakening the mind from its colonial slumber.
With hearts both strong and true finally punch our number.
Service be our earnest endeavour to our neighbours and strangers.
And our homeland of Kenya be protected from all dangers.
Heritage of splendour from our farms to our seas.
Firm may we stand to defend from the mountains, never again on our knees.
Let all with one accord to leave our country better than we find it.
In common bond united from the chosen to the misfit.
Build this our nation together without qualms or complaints.
And the glory of Kenya fly free of any restraints.
The fruit of our labour improve our standard of living.
And if we ever forget, fill every heart with thanksgiving.
Original parts of the Kenya National Anthem included written by: Graham Hyslop, G. W. Senoga-Zake, Thomas Kalume, Peter Kibukosya, Washington Omondi, 1963
MY GENGE NOTES
Nilianza kuandika nikiwa form 2.
Enzi za ESir but nikakosa visa ya kustudy past the studio hii story ni true.
Nikarusha dice, nikaangukia ofisi kama kamari.
Lakini usanii hatutawahi sare.
Nitacontinue kushoot shots kama Alehandro lakini nitabakia mkarimu kama Benzema.
Nilitunga mistari kabla nipate ID lakini jina nikajipa sikuwa nameless.
Live up to the banditry najipox kila time ndio niwapee presha.
Shash ikareplace gomba kwa lyrics, maneno yanapaa juu sio moshi wicked.
Nimeflex kwa jua kali najenga future, it’s not all for the ladies.
Narusha macho kwa manzi wa Nairobi nasema rest in peace Lady S.
Pilipili hainiwashi bali yanipa morale ya kuknow nini ndio next step.
Tones ziko na genge mpya limemuok sio warazi tu wanarep.
Msanii ni kioo cha jamii, sauti ya umati lakini fikra za wengi.
Ndio maana artistes hukaa manarcissist juu lazima waiinsist.
Kubadili perception inayoharibu reception na kutoana rangi.
Ningekua reckless na message ya wakiritho lakini wako ritho.
Wanaeza ita SWAT na sio time yangu ya kulambana na the law.
So nitazidi kusema mi ni divine, “I’m a miracle, baby.”
Nimechungulia family nikaona hatutabaki kukohoa kwa Corolla.
Kama Femi tutawezana na wale wana vitambi Major?
Nani atatoa gang kwa boondocks and sail us kwa hao iko in a better state?
Juu maKartelo wamekuwa millionaire na pandemik, sealing our fate.
Nimenyongwa na ethics ndio nasimama kuchachisha.
Nitainama tena, haja ya haya maneno thao ikiisha.
#KenyanMusic #Genge #Gengetone #GengeNotes
BURN US OR BANNERS?
I write from the roots that hold me firm to my faith.
The seeds that germinate inside my cranium like the tree that I don’t cross.
I’ve been awake, my ALARM CLOCK rang a decade ago.
Eyes have been dead set on the living evolving colony.
Alone, didn’t want a loan but now everyone’s blowing up their phone.
The gaps from scraps to burps getting WAY TOO BIG.
Metal trucks drive away with the earth’s vibration.
Though “wenyenchi” and their actions are NAUGHTY BY NATURE.
I still find the rhythm in my lack of naughty despite their nurture.
Before TIME FLIES away from us and we never get to speak the Sauti of our soul.
Let me tell you a SECRET as we follow the FLAME to enlightenment.
The same one that burned within Wangari and scorches when ONYEKA speaks.
Your parents are strong but your ancestors were AFRICAN GIANTs.
Read the wrong books and now look at the MONSTERS YOU MADE.
You were meant to be huge, a big man oga.
In cracked mirrors you created the illusion of an ogre.
Walked down your throne and yet you’re royalty in REAL LIFE.
Take this journey I will tell you WETIN DEY SUP.
At 23, looking out to the universe from OluwaBandit’s lap.
How beautiful and WONDERFUL because with love came laughs.
The past is the past, wisdom says I should walk TWICE AS TALL.
The most important part is that I answered His call.
There’s memory in my forgiveness, I NO FIT VEX.
There’s also strength in my mind than what you see in pecs.
I can already see the ladder, my feet are already stepping up.
I choose to walk for the scenery, I fly when I LEVEL UP.
I see we are walking the same journey now that everyone has come out.
About to rouse the entire galaxy from its coma.
I am not done learning but this knowledge you can BANK ON IT.
It’s why I choose to end this monologue with a COMMA,
THE ABYSS
In the abyss we snuggle with our demons then send them out for coffee in the morning.
In the abyss we need no serenity.
Because you accept what is and what isn’t. Then throw change on the difference.
In the abyss, there is no reality or dreams. Just calming nightmares.
In the abyss, we strangle hope with our heart chords.
In the abyss, we never open our eyes.
In the abyss we don’t look for the light.
For only in the darkness does our skin glow.
In the abyss there are no reflections.
Just deflections of positive thoughts.
In the abyss there is no heartbreak.
Just the slow cranky hum of rusty pacemakers.
In the abyss there are no strings to hold us back.
In the abyss, the limit is every human.
In the abyss we write but never read.
For in the nuclear storm, we will be red all over.
In the abyss, we already survived WWIII.
In the abyss, we didn’t die, because we were never alive.
John Paul’s Satire
Be still, my sorrow.
Stay asleep, my soul.
Flatter these sheep, show their dry coats.
Flutter lids in my sleep, dreams of dry jokes.
Endless jars of my transformation oil.
Door ajar and whispers of this son of the soil.
I lost my right to be wrong.
But still got this long con in my sights.
Red eyes are better than red thoughts.
I’m making a killing casting your lots.
I slit my throat to spite my tongue.
But all you see is the price of air exiting my lungs.
I set my foundation using your alms.
The ceiling of my impunity will be laid down by your arms.
I care, I promise you I care.
I care less of your pain and struggle.
As long as you caress my stains and sweep up my rubble.
I’m Marx and you just failed my class.
I lie in your confused conflict as you run out of gas.
I slay you at the same altar you worshiped your queen.
For you chose to care more about Keke than your teens.
By the rivers of this new Babylon is where I shall bury your capital.
Instantly highlighting these failures deemed societal.
Communal consumerism makes up the new deadly sins.
A gambler’s addiction yet only the house wins.
I wash the blood off my hands from this planned accident.
My promises like Pontiacs pirated off the silver coast.
At your crossroads with the train bearing down on you sets the precedent.
That your existence was only narrated by my ghost.
I wish I cared, really cared, because I don’t.
John is a legend – A Kenyan Pledge
IF YOU HEAR THIS MESSAGE
I will not start this with an introduction about how long I have been away. I will not even refer to the fact that my poems seems to fall on really shallow eardrums. I will not even admit how much of my fault that is. I am normally thinking of a movie I watched when I was 7, referencing an event that happened in 1992 whilst using words of songs produced in 2015. I am the anti type of Ken Saro Wiwa. Asking questions about the government while fearing for the lives of those I care about. Cowering behind rhymes and ambivalent statements. Hoping that some people will get it. A perfect example is this one. Wenyenchi’s theory
Today, that is not the case. I will be honest, I might be brutal, I might even shed some tears on this canvas. But believe you me, today, you will not leave this page trying to figure out what I was on about.
WHEREVER YOU STAND
This message is not being directed to a certain clique of people. I am not speaking to the Kikuyus, the Luos, the government, the voters, the apathetic or the believers.I am speaking to humans. I am asking you to pay heed. To grow, from whence you are. Be a better you. Stop looking at others. The vibes you project onto others reverberate across boundaries, religions and generations. If there is a problem around you. You are either the problem or you are fixing it.
I’M CALLING EVERY WOMAN, CALLING EVERY MAN
We have been part of years of women coming into literacy and power. Still miles away from the dream but women have been shaping and changing the world long before they could vote. Long before women were allowed to get an education. Long before they were allowed to lead. For isn’t every man who has led before, the son of a woman? Did not the same woman not teach him how to wipe his nose and tie his shoe laces? Does he not look up to her more than he can admit? Isn’t a man who believes in “genuine” feminism the proponent of the change the world needs? Isn’t he the guide other growing boys will need as a mentor?
WE’RE THE GENERATION
I have probably heard these 2 statements more than I would care to count.
“This next generation of teenagers will be the worst adults ever.”
“Our generation was messed up by our parents.”
These statements come from the same group of double tapping, G.O.T loving, keyboard smacking 25 to 35 year old millennials.
They have relinquished their responsibilities in actually making sure they change themselves or mentor the younger generation not to follow into their what they call misplaced and misguided footsteps. The politician who is 30 has no difference from the one who is 60. Most of them are after power, money and fame. The pursuit of who will make the best sponsor.
WHO CAN’T AFFORD TO WAIT
“I will one day open a children’s home. I will one day give like 10% of my money to the poor”. I hear this every month from friends and colleagues. Meanwhile a girl who is 23 has been saving her pocket money by walking part of her distance to college. Keeping fit while at the same time giving others a chance at a well fed life if not a good life. I am in no way chastising you. You mostly choose how you live your life. You should not feel bad about what luck and hard work has borne you. But a bottle of Tusker and a fancy phone cover could buy 20 homeless kids lunch for the day. I am not suggesting that I am any better. I am just giving you an idea. A better way to see the world, a better way to see yourself.
“If you have done well in whatever business you are in, it is your duty to send the elevator back down” –Kevin Spacey
THE FUTURE STARTED YESTERDAY
I was watching the comedy Blackish. In Season 2, Episode title “Hope”, Anthony Anderson goes into a monologue that opens and rips your heart apart. It smashes your skull in as your mind blows all over your already stained carpet. And you go like: “You talking to me? You talking to me?”
“Oh, so you wanna talk about hope, ‘Bow? Obama ran on hope. Remember when he got elected? And we felt like maybe, just maybe, we got out of that bad place and made it to a good place. That the whole country was really ready to turn the corner. You remember that amazing feeling we had during the inauguration? I was sitting right next to you. We were so proud. And we saw him, get out of that limo, and walk alongside of it, and wave to that crowd. Tell me you weren’t terrified when you saw that. Tell me you weren’t worried that someone was gonna snatch that hope away from us like they always do. That is the real world, ‘Bow. And our children need to know that that’s the world they live in.”
In 1992/1993, I cannot be sure as I was very young. While my sister had taken me to Hospital in Limuru at a place we called “Kwa B/Fateri” (I would find out it was Patel years later). Clashes erupted between cops and people who were having a multi-party “Kamukunji”. My sister and I ran and had to plead with a shopkeeper to let us in. And then stay locked in that shop for the next 2 hours before the coast was clear. It has now been 23 years since then. We have enjoyed freedom of speech to a certain extent, we have enjoyed good leadership, again to a certain extent. But in the same years we have seen what complacency can yield. We are comfortable with watching other people’s fathers and sons protest injustice for our sake from the comfort of our homes. We have decided to use the word “reality” vs “idealism” as the reason for our inaction. Can you imagine how many people once thought slavery was a reality? How many people believed colonialism was a reality? Why do you choose to believe that impunity, corruption and injustice is?
AND WE’RE ALREADY LATE
We have seen that the quiet overlooking of laws and the constitution comes for your enemies, your opponents and then for you. We support laws only when they work for us. When the cops inhumanely beat up protesters, hawkers and looters. We nod and agree. Sometimes we even smile and make memes and then laugh some more. When the cops under the same training and disillusioned justice come for one of your own. You are up in arms. You will make noise and tell your friends about how you did not get a government tender because they needed a bribe. The truth is that is not the problem. You could not afford the size of the bribe. Otherwise you would be in jail every week for over-speeding and running red lights. How soon do you decide to change? How soon do you decide not to give up?
You have to let the fear go. We all die in the end. Death comes for us and we can only choose how to face it when it comes.
I don’t want this to be a write up that ignites a spark in one man that he uses to light up the world and burn all our hypocritical iniquities. I want this message to ignite just a big enough flame in every human. I don’t want this to be shared just so we can discuss how many likes it got and whether my blog stats are on the up. Thereafter the message will be lost and the point will one day be found in some deep rusty annals of the wreckage that would have become Kenya.
I am looking for that person who will read this and internalize it. Use it to change a friend or two, a generation or a family. Make sure that even if we don’t get to benefit from the fruits of our actions, our children or their children do; for we do not inherit the Earth from our ancestors but borrow it from our children.
There is nothing as strong as an idea. It gives more will for action than the reality can. The reality is scary but an idea, a probable future is full of hope. I am looking for the person who shall keep this idea burning. If you’re out there….
Wenyenchi’s theory
I don’t believe that by this time I need an intro.
I am the voice of the people. The dead, the broken, the ones who have left us.
You may try your best to get rid of me but I shall live on.
Will what I tell you be disseminated for free?
Or will you bottle it and try to sell it to the next investor who is willing to pay a kickback?
May 16th; is this the day you would like etched in our annals as the day winter fell?
Changed our love, our hospitality to some cold-hearted, demonic hatred?
Just because I weep in my sleep does not qualify as a wet dream.
Oh my King can’t I just have your ear for these few minutes?
Maybe I can help change the mindset of our institutionalized people.
Maybe we could finally grow past the emotional whims of our ’08 adolescence?
I have been to Nyayo house, and if these walls could talk they would spew out quite the horror stories.
A tale of two citizens with the power to make the best of my beloved country.
Are you really listening?
Because whether God got us but you cost us are we really gonna be alright?
We have changed slavery and colonialism, packed it in more palatable chains.
The Fire squad carries batons and they aim way before we are even ready to run.
Just like our votes, has our peace and freedom really become for sale?
Has it really been that long since I checked in as righteous as a saint in Tropez?
Before my momma knew that I would ever find myself in the middle of this blood politics?
How much does a life cost? I dare ask you.
If you start by explaining which tribe or which faction the soul is from, I strongly urge you to:
Get off my…..
Definition, because you are no role model and have no right to advise me on matters humanity, complexion, religion and culture.
Hello.
Are you still on the line?
Have you decided to make the blacker the berry, the bitter the truths I tell you?
You ain’t gotta lie, I have heard that apparently it is inherently in you to only love yours.
In this regard as I hear you drop the call. I seek to remind you.
You are a mortal man. So are we all.
Mortal men.
#RedressForOurWomen “For most of history, Anonymous was a woman.” ― Virginia Woolf
I have tried to calm down on this matter for as long as I could. This was to ensure that my thoughts and my opinion would not be lost among a cacophony of irate swear words and insults. I have really tried but still I feel that in no way is this going to be pretty. If you try to say otherwise of my intended objective, there’s a possibility I will mow you down. Physically or metaphorically.
Today is The International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women. I am not just writing this piece because of this fact. I am writing because as of last night when I saw the third video of a woman being stripped in these very streets of Nairobi, I could not stomach it anymore. At first there was shame, shame that I had not talked of this sooner. Shame that I, like most naive Kenyans had believed the monsters and the hoodlums would be afraid of the law and not repeat such actions anymore. Shame that I had a belief in a system that has not given me any reason to trust in it. Shame, that I was a current generation man in this our beloved country.
Soon-after though, the anger came, the rage was boiling, my temples were pounding so hard and finally my ears became hot as if a true reflection of the white hot seething wrath that erupted from within the deepest of my element. I was angry and I still am. This last video, was a rape. How long ago was it that somebody compared the first video to a rape?? And now less than a week since #MyDressMyChoice the hooligans were at it in a worse manner. Inserting their fingers and touching a naked, bruised and beaten woman on the street.I am sorry but there are no better words to use and even if I did have them I would not use them. It is no longer the time to share videos that keep humiliating the victims. No, it is time to react, to fight back. If my writing annoys you as much as the videos would have, even better. She had to cower under a vehicle at which point they started yelling for the driver to move the car. These people are a virus. One of the men I noticed had a wedding band on his hand. His shirt was quite unique and I wondered; “Is there a wife somewhere watching this and knowing that that’s the man she chose to spend her life with??”
I am angry. At the person who just stood there recording these clips. At the men who were not part of the crime but just watched as all of it transpired. You will tell me that it is not safe for them to interfere. Did what was happening to the woman look safe to you?? Blows and kicks hurt and yes most are afraid of death. But be a man goddammit!! Stand up for the weak. This should be inherent in your nature. All you need to think of is how that person on the street could be your wife, your sister or your mother. And your fright will certainly change into fight. If you don’t do this, then the clips that will keep circulating will be of the despicable, implacable pieces of feculence winning and creating more fear in the society. They say the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. We are not even close to overturning this. But we have to try, one by one we have to stand up to these villains. The videos circulating must be of men and women standing up to face these fiends. One video will inspire some other people to do the same. We can use the same medium they have used to create something positive. Here is an example:https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=511834858916582&set=vb.100002702181334&type=2&theater
I don’t care if anyone stands with me. I shall stand alone. We are not so worse off that the evil people in the society have become more than the good ones. We are certainly running low on the brave. But we need to remember that courage is not the absence of fear but the ability to conquer it. We need to remember as one Desmond Tutu said: “If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality.”
You are probably wondering why I am angry at all of you. All of you men. Inclusive of myself. You will talk back and say, you have not been a witness to such and you would have helped if you could. But no dear brother in negligence of duty. You probably have been privy to either of the below:
- A friend slapping a “rude” girl in the club or on the streets.
- Your dad, uncle, grandfather, neighbour whipping his “manner-less” wife.
- You teacher pinching the thighs or chests of girl students.
- Your workmate or classmate “spanking” the behind of a female workmate.
- You have walked by as street kids cornered a lady alone in the street so she could give money forcefully.
- etc
These “cultural”, “innocent”, “disciplinary” actions are what has led to this. The belief that women are here to be controlled by you as a man. That men lead and women follow. That the only way to win an intellectual discussion against a woman is to make use of your stronger physical attributes. These men causing this current mayhem are just fully infected cells of the societal body. You have become a carrier. To heal the body, we will have to start by healing ourselves. We have tried peaceful protests. We tweeted and sent all manner of messages on social media. Now, we have to remember that it is faster to stop a bleeding wound with a hot iron than with bandages upon bandages.
I am calling you and you and you. I am an Alumni of the UoN and time and time again, SONU has been accused of conducting and effecting nonsensical strikes. At this point in time I wonder: How about we stand for something worth fighting for? Our women.
“Everyone has a responsibility to prevent and end violence against women and girls, starting by challenging the culture of discrimination that allows it to continue.”
Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon
No Angel
Another one from TDB and his grandson
Doing something to change the world.
Still on hold.
Not so bold.
It’s like am waiting till I get some gold.
Nod like I can’t do it in my current mode.
My ideology to the public ensure its sold.
Not rich enough, powerful enough but still can offset some load.
Start an idea, change the mood.
However small still consider it good.
Through my words and ideas, revive some hood.
Never experienced poverty, slept without getting food.
Still got no laxity in helping however I could.
No angel just don’t see the point of having too much while others have too little.
Allow me to intrude your comfort zone don’t wanna be rude.
Point out the injustices leave you nude.
The divine bandit shoot ‘em up reload.
High as a kite.
We gonna win this fight.
Gonna take this flight.
As we have no fright.
I tell you this feels right.
We kill all fear tonight.
I am the divine bandit and I rhyme cos it’s my right.
My dreams I never lose sight.
Whatever the recipe I always take a bite.
Make a home for my wayward mind as I survey the site.
Look at my forefathers as I do this rite.
Pour a drink to them as I pray for height.
My heart and head are heavy never light.
So strong yet they ignore my might.
I breathe these words and make this verse tight.
I am on the weighing scale check my weight.
Love QWERTY but on this touch-pad I write.
I wanna continue but I got this date.
That I consider to be my fate.
So I’m never late.
Always early to open the gate.
I shine on these words at a higher rate.
You need not applause just make sure you never hate.
Back at me still biting the bait.
Too soon don’t rate.
Just set up a date.
To bring change and not with Cate.
Got potential to change their fate.
Not solo got the support of my mate, Ed not Nate.
Start up a few projects.
Listen to society not just object.
Understand the root of the problem before trying to eject.
Less our efforts just lead to more neglect.
Made a leaflet, the eye light.
Addressing issues uncensored that will definitely leave your stomach tight.
Kids dying while food we eyeing.
Human rights activists mysteriously dying.
The church joining in their game of lying.
Corruption, embezzlement and negligence around us flying.
Not enough just praying.
A foundation to bring change we should all be laying.
Starts with you as an individual before our neighbors we start slaying.
Hope my words lead to some gratification.
Strong willed cos of my affection.
Raise the alarm get some attention.
Try to facilitate their accessibility to basic needs and highlight their oppression.
This my consideration of an ultimate penetration.
The Divine Bandit™ 