Kara , Ahamaru , Ahadharu

Kara for my color, so they said

My progenitors, cut, hurt, slain

Now you preach that I turn color-blind?

Even in black and white, the two are always discrete.

Veni vidi vici. Shakespearean, superficial, racial

Cracked the whip, no balance with the shoulder to cry on

Yet they’d have sworn numero uno was the latter.

Ahamaru runs through every inch of my being,

The price paid for the cause,

Flowed in rivulets to spell passion even though

the enemy was the scribe, signed yours truly.

White: peace, love, unity. The little ones swallow, no impugning it.

Never to fathom it’s only pieces of greed and cruelty.

The cure’s subliminal uplift. The onus is on us entirely.

Ahadharu. The cause. So pause, contemplate

Suppose, to your face, I told you of the grace they brought

Only to be trampled on by fools who grass never sought

Would I be wrong to free the mind off this unbound prison?

Emancipate yourself from mental slavery; none can free the mind but yourself.

Robert Nesta’s words, my impetus, what to thineself?

Revive their spirits, then off my flag, I’ll pride myself.

I couldn't think of a title. So I just wrote..

He came, he saw, he conquered

Came to our land to spread the “word”

Saw our minds needed to be altered.

Servitude’s what followed, honorless, immodest borrow

Magnitude was unfathomable, bright days filled with sorrow

Gratitude was unheard of, not with their entire candor”.

Said and done, the struggle begun

Dead and gone, to them, what was to be done

Dedan got, what he least deserved.

When mind and body are apart, not much is left of one

The body was freed, the mind now conceited to borrowed ways

What you call modern, I call mental vassalage.

Use your real eyes to realize where you came from

Or the real lies will cutoff the roots to your genesis.

See if you don’t know where you’re from, would you know where you’re headed?

Her Favorite Color

I was told instinctively

That they like flowers especially

In pink, red, blue, all hues, personally

I got her a few appropriately.

and though she accepted them, rather forcefully,

I walked away smiling joyfully.

Little did I know that thoughtfully,

She’d use the gift I got wholeheartedly,

To wish or wish not unceremoniously,

Whether I did not, or loved her fully.

We spoke later, I asked her instinctively

whether she’d loved the gift, especially

the pink, the red, the blue I’d picked personally.

She answered. Appropriately

didn’t shut up but rather forcefully

gave me my answer. Not joyfully.

She didn’t think I’d picked them thoughtfully.

That broke me wholeheartedly.

Almost crashed, I asked for favorites, and unceremoniously

She answered “Gold and Silver”. My bad, my folly.

The O.S.T.

Baba na mama waliniambia wewe kijana,
Ujihadhari na ya ulimwengu kwani ni mabaya,
Nami sikuyasiskiza, sasa mi ninajuta,
Kweli najionea, dunia ina mambo...

So I thought experience would be my teacher
and life my mentor. Then the preacher
asked me who I believed in, money or God?
I didn’t quote scriptures or speak in tongues
or allude to any one man’s famous words
but made it clear in this world
where people barter their passion for glory,
Their souls for riches and blame life’s glitches,
I refuse to blindly follow any religion
That makes Satan the god and teaches
Self righteous people to embrace a façade.


Yaliponipata wengi walicheka sana,
Kwangu mimi naona ni kawaida (eeeh)
Ndugu yangu mimi, matatizo nimeyazoea,
Kwangu mimi naona ni kawaida…

They say life’s a bitch, depends how you treat her
They never say what to do if you can’t afford to keep her
Some sort of marriage thing, till death do you part
So am constantly struggling, it’s troubling, it’s so hard.
My tragedy isn’t different, but my wound’s deep, listen
and don’t throw at me your condescending candor
See I’ve learnt to daily make the best of bad situations
and like the African poet, I never let you see me
down…damn I smile while am bleeding!




Afro, Afro mama (ooh) mtoto wa Sagana (eeh) mama
Salamu zangu nakutumia popote ulipozipokee
Msalmie ndugu na wazazi wako mama(eeh)
Popote walipo Afro, mimi sijambo lakini…

There had to be a “BUT” right? But I don’t sit
my butt tight and wait for my ‘Afro’ to walk through the door.
She left me a while ago, and now without Afro am bald.
She was my love, but my love
ditched me because I couldn’t take her out to movies,
and you still think love is blind?

Mtoto si nguo...…
So since Afro left all I do is wait
Not for her, but for my
Malaika,
to come and fadhili my crying heart.


Kifo..… Kifo...

This is no elegy, my apology
But we shouldn’t fear death
I hear everything awaits us there
Though we shouldn’t look forward to it either
Don’t take life too seriously, be dying to live
Today, nothing’s for certain tomorrow, we’re living to die
I’ll tell you about me, what my epitaph shall read,
“Sobre vivir”, continue living
and at the bottom my writing, signed yours truly.

All this is ol’ school, maybe because this’ an ol’ soul
And this’ the original soundtrack to the movie, my life.