Your heaviness weighs on me,
Like a rough nam lolwe water on a small engine boat.
Anxiety!
The waves slap the shores with hurried mischief
Most think about death, the fear of it
But me; I think of you.
Five kids in tow,
Crossing the lake on a dark night, in a small boat
To a further land that might not have shown you mercy.
The mother-hen very weary but determined.
But I can’t know your thoughts,
Your thoughts, when you have to beg for support that never came.
Am slow,
I could only dream of my own things,
Never attaching to your mindset, didn’t understand your suffering.
‘if I meet you I’ll remember you’, I replied prophetically when asked if when I grow up I’ll remember you.
It was a moonlit night in a land far away, forgotten.
Pulpy tomatoes and Ugali was the menu
I couldn’t grasp the pain, the lack.
This night in Mbita is dark,
I’m alone, broken and lost…
Pain and tears
(It’s like the first time I fled Nairobi, to the place of parched plains
Where my dreams fondly casts)
I haven’t been treated well!
From my hotel room;
The only sound is waves slapping on the shores.
A bit calming,
Raaaacha, softly
I try to imagine your suffering, oh Atieno.
I cough and fear,
There’s blood in my breathe,
I rush to my good morning syrup and vitamin c tablets,
The age of darkness is here.
Argh, I don’t care!
This hope I carry within me,
Ignited by strange things, that only seers can fathom.
I’ve entertained thoughts of going away for long.
I haven’t been treated well!