Good Neighbours

He was robbed—again—

Inside the manyatta he calls home

He has a big black gate written ‘mbwa kali’ (fiery dogs)

And ‘trespassers will be shot’

We never knew him, he never knew us

But he knew (just as we knew) that somebody lived

Beside where we lived.

From his askari, we were told that

Two gun-toting youths pressed their pistols

On the guard’s bald head and frog-marched him

To the compound.

They locked the gate and proceeded to loot our neighbor

Senseless.

We felt sorry for our neighbour

And told him to pull down the wall

So that through the hedges we might peep

And help in case of danger

And may be ask him what his name is

But here in Nairobi, a good neighbor

Must remain aloof.

C) echoes of the hills/Salem Lorot 2013

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In response to Poets United's prompt of Verse First  'Fences'

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In the village where I have grown up, fences united us, never barricading our existence. Our gates were from a thorn tree which could be pulled or pushed by visitors before they entered our homes. That was until I came to Nairobi. I saw metallic gates, broken glasses on top of perimeter walls and electric fences. At a sprawling posh residence of Karen, I have heard of people being robbed yet their neighbours never heard of it. Times have changed. Fences, figuratively speaking, have ringed our hearts from each other. It is as if we are saying, 'Don't worry about me, I am by myself'. Which is quite ironical. Aren't we interdependent? Aren't we interconnected? Where is "Ubuntu" in all this? Just a thought.

ECHOES OF THE HILLS: HAPPY NEW YEAR, FRIENDS

HAPPY NEW YEAR, dear readers of echoes of the hills. I am back from the land behind the hills, energised and spirited more than ever to accomplish my “opus”. I had a wonderful time with my family members at the village and they are those times that I cherish most.

Two things that I want to accomplish this year: 1) Personal Development and 2) Service to others. I will not elaborate much about my personal development save to say that I intend to develop myself professionally and feed my soul more with inspiring stuff. I want to educate myself more, learn things which are never taught in class.

But on service to others, I had the honour of meeting two senior police officers at Kacheliba Canteen whose stories really inspired me. One told me that they were ready to sponsor a bright and needy pupil at school and that they were ready to commit themselves to paying Kshs. 1,000 shillings per month to ensure that a Pokot child might have shoes, books or have school fees paid. He told me that as a police officer, he feels that it is his duty to leave a place satisfied at having assisted in a small way. He said that although he belonged to a different ethnic community, he considered himself to be a Pokot while serving as a police officer in Kacheliba. He added that he remains a human being and the fact that he helps another makes him feel good. 

He said that he does not want recognition. He wants to do this secretly but his greatest happiness is in knowing that he has helped someone.

Now, that was very powerful.

I told him of my story. Of how a Comboni Missionary in my village helped me in my university education. Of how I still get assistance from people I have never seen but with whom the cord of love ties us together. I told him that the lesson I have learnt from my life so far is that this world is a beautiful place with beautiful souls doing amazing things.

But the story is not so much about me. So I shared with him my vision of having a very big community library in Kacheliba with thousands of books and computers. I told him that I can see this dream become a reality and that I am excited about it. I told him that this is the image that is in my mind and that under the law of attraction and the law of vibration, I know that my mind is both a broadcasting and receiving station. Thus, I KNOW and EXPECT that things are already happening and I AM VERY THANKFUL that the library is already built because it is there in my mind. Many people do not and will not understand me but I know that this vision is already fulfilled. I do not concern myself so much about how it will happen. That is left for Tororot. 

Some few weeks ago when I was in the village, I visited the site where the library will be built. I smiled. That thought and image was so beautiful. A library right in the middle of a pastoralist community living a nomadic life. Pokot children adorned in their traditional “shuka” and “akala” shoes flipping through books and those faces of wonderment and astonishment. Young nomadic boys discovering the world of books and being very brilliant at it.

And also, here in Kenya, we are preparing for General Elections on March 4^th.  We are in campaign fever right now. There is so much going on as they do as we gear up for election. Honestly, I don’t mind what promises one will give but I get worried about careless statements which stir up people to rise against another. Words are powerful things. The responsibility is for us all to keep peace. One thing I came to learn about those who stoke the fires of ethnicity and tribal bigotry is that they are, to a large extent, educated people. Despite all their learning, they speak of ‘our tribe’ winning elections this time round. They are foul-mouthed, arrogant and intolerant. They write trash on Facebook. They post comments anonymously on blogs and write things that leave us horrified.

It is because of this that I quit Facebook sometime in December last year, for good! I grew disappointed and weary at the educated people of all ages who were not inspiring and had resorted to the blind path of hatred and invectives. There is nothing as emotionally draining as rivers of words drowning every voice of reason. But now, I am free again. And this poetry blog is what I am left with. And at the pilgrim of these sacred hills - the echoes of the hills - I will commune. From this vantage point, I will look around the world, learn from it and as much as possible write words which will build, not destroy.