Father’s Day: Minstrel on this Earth

This poem honours my two dads, both deceased, one who sired me and the other who raised me. Both went to meet with the Lord. Wherever you are, I know you are watching over me.

W.H Auden's poem "Stop All the Clocks" befits the sorrow I felt. But I remain hopeful.

You could watch it here:

~

I have been avoiding mentioning this

For the past five years

So, I have always sung

But deep inside me I have been crying

My father,

I remember him telling me,

“My son, I have no wealth but faith,

We are all travellers on this earth”

He rode me in his bicycle and showed me

His tomato farm

And that day I messed up with his camera

Exposing the film, destroying all photos

He never descended on me in anger

May be he was very angry

Or it never showed

He now lies buried

A traveller he was, he said

Enigmatic, my dad was

Hardworking, my dad was

Religious, my dad was

August 2004

As I buried him, a part of me died too

“Stop all the clocks”, my heart cried

But my dad was no more

~

What happens when the one

Who you grew with tender and affection

Dies?

What happens when the very ground you stood on

Is pulled beneath your feet?

How do you react to the demise of one

Who bought you Oxford English Dictionary and Kamusi

And Read With Us and Hallo Children?

“Usimlaumu dobi, kaniki rangile”, he always said,

Don’t blame the launder, a stained cloth remains so.

“Achanikaye kwenye mpini hafi njaa”, he also told us,

Those who labour on their hoe’s handles don’t sleep hungry.

I remember the newspapers you always bought

And the academic cheer you always brought

You loved knowledge

I remember your challenge

“Which is a City within a City?”

We were clueless, you said “Vatican”

So, when I buried you

I held back tears, but for how long?

Thus, as mourners sang, I remembered

The good things you did, the wonderful times we shared

The thought that you were no more

Was so painful, so devastating

So I let my tears flow

Till now, a part of me lies buried with you

Salem, you named me,

When I read Hebrews 7: 1-,

PEACE is what my name means,

Lorot, you also named me,

Because I was born on the way,

No fancy hospital delivery

So, symbolically,

I am a minstrel on this earth

Singing peace to troubled souls

It is a sojourn, that much my birth shows,

Perhaps it was the loss of two people in my life

That drew me close to the love for all

I lost them, but found them in you all.