Kenyans,
where has your sense gone to?
People
take goats to the market place
But
you pride in taking hyena to the market place
While
others are thought sane
You
are thought insane
But
it thrills you to be thought and considered insane
For
it appears to me that the most ridiculous runs the show
Your
people take so much time to find wives
Sending
emissaries to inquire on the girl’s history
Not
to find traces of madness, witchcraft and laziness
And
for months and years, a wife is carefully selected
Because
you always reasoned that a wife is
A
middle hut pillar, holding the family together
Even
during baraza, you will listen to
cases
Listening
to either side, to get to the truth,
You
are slow to pass rash judgments
In
your traditional court systems
And
even in your approach to life
A
parent would know
Which
child will become what in future
A
child that is busy writing on walls
With
charcoal sticks could be an artist
A
child that is busy feeding the cat
Could
probably end up being a vet
A
child that picks lit firewood and swings it
Might
probably end up as a witch
So,
what became of you Kenyans
Where
is your sense of judgment,
Your
patience and collective wisdom?
You
choose your women right
You
listen to your cases right
You
predict your child’s future right
Why
can’t you elect leaders right?
3 comments:
Oh this poem will resonate with folks from every country.......the entire planet has never needed wise leaders more desperately.
I ditto Sherry.
Thank you so much Koko and TUG.
As always I appreciate you in a big way. :)
Post a Comment
Echoes of the Hills is all about you. I would love to hear your echo...