Suleiman

In his heydays, he bestraddled

All the hip night spots--

Lambada, Tembo, Bobz—

Cash flowed from his pocket

Like the tits of a Friesian cow

He visited the Pirates Beach, cruised

In glass boats, wore dark sunglasses,

Tipped the beach boys in thousands

For he had won a lottery

But now, you see him

A haggard frame abused with cocaine

He strolls aimlessly, a pale shadow of his former self

Sometimes you find him in Mtwapa

With a wistful look of a retired soldier

Or he could be spotted staring at Nakumatt

As if to relive his former glory