Njia Panda/ Crossroads

Unajua ground ikiteleza
watu hutafuta mwenye amemwaga maji!
Kumbe ni enemy ameifanya terrain ikuwe slippery!
Ile story King kaka aliwaambia ni truth.
Lakini  conversations za truth ni ngumu kuput through.

Kama wewe uko hapo base level
Hakuna vile unaweza kuwa different na mawazo yako
Thoughts are things ndivo sages hutwambia.
Itakuwaje wanaotuongoza ni mafia halafu sisi ni holy?
Sasa hii kitu tulishaiona kwa umbali!
Lakini tumeogopa for long coz hatuna guts za kuiita bluff!

Kama Martin Luther angenyamaza ,
American blacks hawangekuwa na voting rights.
Ilibidi Mandela apigane na Injustice,
Ndio black Southafricans wapate equal privileges
Mambo Kenya haitakuwa any different tukikaa silent,
Hii ndio reason investments zinaenda Kigali,
Juu hakuna kitu kama corruption hapo!

Hizi ills sasa ziko entrenched kwa system yetu,
Lakini system si mbaya ni watu wamerot kutoka upstairs.
You see hata samaki mbaya huharibika starting from the head.
Hii kuwa optimistic kwamba mambo itabadilika ni illussion!
Ni kama daydream!
Inahitaji wale wachache wako upright kusimama,
Bila kuuliza 'what is there for me'

Swahili shakespeare aliwaambia nyinyi ni forgetful tu sana.
Vice moja huondolewa na ingine,
Injustice ya saa hizi huwa inafutwa na ingine.
Hawa washajua sisi ni kama ngiri,
Hatukumbuki tulichofanyiwa Jana,
Tukilia njaa tunapunguziwa bei ya unga,
Saa hio ni mdosi fulani anatafutiwa tender za kuimport cheap maize.

Sijui solution ni kuunda Kangaroo courts
Zichukue place ya justice system?
Ukifanya vibaya unaadhibiwa hapo hapo!
Labda wakifeel pain wataacha kuruin country.
Nimesema nichanganye lugha labda mtaelewa hivo,
Kwa sababu tuko kwa crossroads.
Na mnajua njia panda vile ilimfanya fisi

Days Of Old

And now am back to here,
where we trace the roots,
And remember beautiful old-time fantasies.
Like watching our shadows in the clear stream.
What can beat the ryhthms of the river waters,
Going doing to an unknown destination.
You remember the Mathioya moments,
That was our version of going out.
Whats more satisfying?
Than hearing the lush sound of reeds beside the river waters,
Looking like the place where Moses was hidden,
Ooooh,and the sound of pebbles as they go down,
I can remember,
Because all of me is still country.
The city with its heights scares me.
I still haven't got used to the neon lights!
And i still treasure the fishing line,
What about the thrill of a new catch!
I still wear pepe jeans like they do in the country
And i don't give a damn wearing my safari boots often
When you watch the lilies by the bank of the river,
and they are supple because they've drank long from its waters,
There is no other beauty you can compare.
The  trees know no other time but spring,
So they flower and flower
And all these make manifest the glory of God,
And yes they liberated us to dream and dream,
They lit our candles then as they still do.
For that reason,tomorrow is such a long time coming,
Before i get back to this beauty of old.

KINGDOMS

When dawn breaks,

And what you do gets you hooked,

And what you don't do gets in the way too,

It sucks!

You've got to get free.

Got to loose yourself to find you,

And then you can build another anthem,

On top of the one that imprisons you

Away from the timid to the brave,

Along the highway  that leads to your hearts victory,

And to your minds delight,

Then you can say you've build another kingdom,

In place of the other.

So in this pursuit,

Of living as though you don't own what you possess,

Of taking advantage of low moments,

As if to cheat your way to freedom.....

And when happy staying as though you're not...

Its about that effort which goes to fanning the flame 

When the ebbs are low

And quieting the sounds though not to a dull,

When the high note gets you into trouble.

There is this element that seems not much to some,

But to you it is all or none,

So you engross in it,

And then the danger is not far ,

because then it hooks.

The goodness absorbs you,

The bad in it gets you too.

These kingdoms are the ones i refer.

So what is the way out?

Staying as if what you buy is not yours to keep.

Knowing that even time ,

as fleeting as it is, is not yours too.

So that even if you'd fail a thousand times in all others,

But commit your soul to only this,

You'll have broken a thousand barriers,

And out of kingdoms that keep you down,and below!

CLARION CALL-Unabridged.

When the rubber meets the road,
And the sling does its swing,
Something is bound to happen
'Cause one must give way to the other,
Or else, both live in harmony .
And because we can't hold back anymore
We gonna say it the way it is,
Call it by its name and its synonym .
They institutionalized the curfew,
and the model of the  African business.
They call us backward,
Just because they stole so much from us!
What's a marathon for,
If there is an early and a late start?
I know this mayn't be popular!
But yes, it made our start poor;
A false start designed as so.
They have denied us the opportunity as it arises!
For not knowing our ways,
They may be forgiven
But to push the divide further,
with a sneer for the race can't be tolerated!
We don't get the tenders now
'cause we ain't have security!
And so our brothers nearer home,
Have borrowed a leaf,
From those invaders of longtime
Ain't sure whether the passion of the patriot still hold
Because to me the centre doesn't hold.
But Someday things will change!
They will change in Kampala,
They will change in Nairobi
I am saying they will change in Washington DC
They will change in the inner sanctrums,
They will change inside the hamlets we live in.
Our sons lifes will no longer be a sacrifice to their gods,
The blood thirsty gods of unbelief.
And our daughters -
Oooh they've been a cheap exchange for the longest time!
Until it wears our hearts NOW.
The clarion call is to Africa.
And its real sons and daughters
From cape to Tunis,
From Nairobi to Marrakkesh
When  will we stop our business!
If only for a day,
And think about the United States Of Africa,
About our  common problems.
About our hopes,
And the derail in between.
About the violations of human rights.
And about the best effort we can put,
And the quintessence we can amplify.

On Revolutions And The Plotters

Just the other day,and late in the night,
A news reporter said we're on the verge.
Heavy with sleep,i didn't get the succeeding word.
The only other word i heard was-'revolution'
It was an alien word to me.
It was fearful too,and i only thought of guns,
And a forceful eviction of an elected government.
Nevertheless,I went to sleep.
In my naive curiosity,I checked the local daily at dawn,
Eager to read about the revolution.
And true to my eyes it had the story.
The facts were there too.
Kenya was on the verge of a revolution!
And there would be no guns involved,
Not even spare blood to be spilled-
Our blood banks don't have enough supplies anyway!

The story went like this-
The president has identified a common enemy!
An enemy we could all hate and loathe.
An enemy that deprives us the passion to work,
What will all the Johnie come lately eating the whole pie!
Becoming overnight millionaires!
And so the pronouncement had import,
In that it restored our hopes once dried.
The fluid in our joints flowed again,
With the faith and hope that our taxes,
Which  used to feed and fatten the butcher's cats,
Would ultimately find a better use.
And there was the revolution!

Our healthcare system would once again bloom.
Our maternal mortality rate would go down .
And our children would count their birthdays again,
In this God given land that is Kenya.
Talk of revolution!
Revolutions don't need an army.
It may start with a whisper to another,
That things are not just right,
And we can't stay that way!
It doesn't  need a Che Guevara or a Castro,
Though some policies may be just what we need.
It only needs a conscious Kenyan ,
To take the button to another,
About the common enemy that is CORRUPTION,
And the other,not given to keeping things for himself to tell another.
And there we are!
Reclaiming our country from the dogs!

These revolutions revolve around conversations,
About why we should not engage in the vice.
This vice that eats us alive!
It gains momentum in busparks-as you wait for the estate bus,
And in marketplaces where the anti vice slogan spreads,
Then to white collar offices where the sharks lurk.
And before you know,the fat cat is rounded,
His effect-deadened by the chorus against.
That is when the  revolution happen,
With no plotter in sight but goodies to see,
Then hope,our elusive hope springs forth.

GIVE US A SIGNAL,MAMA.

Mama,they are here,
Crying louder than us who cared for you!
Show us a signal,
On how we are supposed to treat them!
Where were they in Kenya,
When Matiba was denied his rights,
And denied treatment even though weak and sick
Where were they,
When his flagship businesses were suffocated
And his loans' interest tripled,
Just so that he may be silenced.
Where were they,
When the leeches sucked his vigour and vitality?
Killing him slowly over such a long time,
We ask for a signal on how to deal with them,
Now that they cry the loudest!

Where were they when Sankara was silenced
Or they didn't like the jabs he gave to Burkina babes
More so, where were they,
When Patrice Lumumba was eliminated?
These so called defenders of freedoms
And caretakers of rights.
Where were they when Njoya was clubbed in Nairobi
And left for dead.
Give us a signal Mama Africa
On how we are supposed to treat them,
Now that they are the first to preach peace while they mean war!

Where were they when Gama pinto was shot on the driveway?
Maybe they didn't like that he was a Goan,
Or they thought he was not entitled as much.
Tell us mama Africa on how we are supposed to live with these facts!
They didn't even speak when J.M was killed and dumped.
Some thought he was growing too popular,
Because he saw the stark truth-
Of 10 millionaires and 10 million beggars!
And so they called it an untruth,
And, burying their heads in the sand,
Couldn't live with him amidst.
Maybe they thought his giving was too much,
That it had to be stopped.

Where were they when Koigi was persecuted?
Or when he was called a terrorist
Just because he couldn't see the fruits of '63 freedom.
Or when Wanyiri Kihoro and Co.were held in the dark cells of Nyayo house,
Just so that their resolve could be tested
Mama give us a signal,
On how we are to see one thing now
And see it differently later,
And yet not lose the trust.
Where were they when Wangari Maathai was branded 'a woman"
As though she wasn't one before,
Just when she stood guard at Uhuru park.
Where were they when the Mothers of political Detainees stripped
Yet none tossed a leso to cover their anatomy!

Tell me where they were,
When a close range bullet finished Tom Mboya
The best president that Kenya never had.
Where were they when their allies killed Gaddaffi?
And despite his social welfare programmes,
branded him a terrorist in his most weak state,
Just so that a united Africa would remain a pipe dream!
And so like Malema i'll ask-
Give us a signal Mama Africa,
On how we are supposed to handle them,
Those who were part of this dark history,
Yet they now cry the loudest
When the fabric tears!

Love.....ooooh Love

What is to love if not to be loved?
what is love if not laced by sacrifice?
what is love if not colored by grace?
what is love if there are no gaps to fill,
And misunderstandings to mend
what is love if there are no agonies to endure
And memories to remember,
For the sake of love.
What is love if its dull and dim,
If there are no bright sparkling moments,
And no staring at the moon,
And no watching the sun go down. 


They say its holding hands in the street,
And sipping coffee at the Hilton terrace,
Or even going on holiday to Mada,
Or seeing the Eifel tower.
So whats this love that cures and heals?
My hunch tells me tis' the simple moments
Of deep reflection.
Of seeing the twinkle little star in the eye of another,
That lights the fire of a lifetime,
And does away with finite time,
Into the abode of carefree abandon,
And into the safety of another for the other.

If seeing places,
And watching the california moonlight does it,
If it lights a selfless effort in the soul,
And gives another the freedom  to be themselves,
Then its love.
If the labours are for show and not meant,
The two then are chained.
Both then are like caged birds that sing,
Singing not songs of love but of bondage
Until they know what love means,
And they then sing for love
Because they know what it means to them.
And the colour of it only they can tell.