Their Hands.

-

Twilight Friday
Just received my paycheck
After days and months of patience
As they say the government works in mysterious ways
Today is my day!
After a massive “restocking”
With foodstuffs and good stuffs
I reduce the debt crisis
In the name of a six-months rent
Now our cat and mouse game
With the landlady                    
Is dead and gone
Free at last free at last thank you lord
I am free at last
My mind is crystal clear, like the hourglass
I take a walk
In the neighborhood
Owe my! I can’t avoid gazing at my neighbors
Brand new X5 parked in the driveway
The next thing I know
I am in the back of a medieval type land rover
‘Gichana lala chini, ii gari apana ya mamako
(Young man lie on the floor this vehicle ain’t your mamas)
After an hour or so
Full of slaps and boot kicks
We reach their ‘safe haven”
Half walking, half flying
I fly into an overcrowded room
Walls ‘beautifully decorated' with blood-graffiti
Broken rib, jaw, collarbone
Broken everything
Where is the famous rule of law?
That is enshrined in that section of the constitution
That I am innocent till proven guilty
FYI I am yet to know what I am being suspected off
Save for the infamous cliché
Thou shall have his day in court
My thoughts are abode with travails of dark ages
As I engage the fat fleas
With their feast of fury on my skin
Where is justice
Is my case
Justice denied, or justice delayed?

Only time may tell my tale.

Comments

  1. Sammy Nakitare29 September 2014 at 06:10

    This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Sammy Nakitare29 September 2014 at 06:13

    I almost thought you were referring to Kenya in the colonial era where you would get your ass in prison for staring 'suggestively criminally' at the white man's pet, rather the legal systems' prejudice against the blacks in a racist nation. The code shift was vital, laying transparent the setting. I generally enjoyed the poem. However, I miss the link connecting together how your getting a pay, and staring at the car that apparently lands you in a cell. So I see two different poems in one...rather, find the first part of the poem rather 'forced'.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Because I am a Foreigner.

-
 You overcharge my cab fare Not  minding that it is not fair You speak ill behind my back Yet you expect my kind heart To pay  back Pretending not to  hurt With an ear to ear smile Because I am a foreigner You mind all my business Expecting me to give you business No privacy policy at my house Because you are better than  CCTV I am sick and tired of your espionage I no longer give a hoot of what you think of me After all the world is what it is And I am whom I am.
Read more

Black Racism

-
Recently I attended an interview, the panel was all African, not that I am an African supremacist but my hopes were high on steroids. I had the papers and experience. My opposite number was a white backpacker on tour. I was wrong. Things took a turn for the worst when I was made to wait outside the interviewing room. ‘’What are we waiting for?’’ I asked the lady.”Ouh, just be patient, ‘’she answered. It would be worth noting that coincidentally,top on my reading list that week was Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Americanah. Minutes later the white boy arrived (let the hunger games begin) the lady who had ushered me in the makeshift lobby ran as hell towards the boy (poor thing).”We have been waiting for you,” she said. Schmoozing and acting all nice like she had just come into contact with a V.I.P of some sort. I wondered if I was say in Brussels, Copenhagen or London for that matter and was the only black interviewee in the room would I be accorded the same priority? My hopes fell knowin...
Read more

3 a.m thoughts

-
 I'd rather be an unsung hero Than a war hero I'd rather be praised by the silent majority Than by the simple majority I'd rather die hungry on my feet Than wine and dine on my knees I'd rather spend 10,000 hours perfecting Than 10 seconds psychophanting I'd rather fight for my rights on the streets Than in the hallways and corridors of fame I'd rather post anonymous Than have a gazillion followers I'd rather fight as a lone ranger Than depend on them pledgers I'd rather make 10,000 mistakes Than be the perfect role  model I'd rather ruin my reputation Than wallow in repudiation For the world is full Full of cowards Full of fools Full of morons And errors But the world is also full of beauty All we got to do is open our eyes To this, Endless possibilities.
Read more