Kimani wa Mumbi Poems

See, two roads might diverge in any wood,
And sorry you cannot travel both
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I will not mourn my father's death
I won't even be struck by his death.
I will not contribute a coin to buy his coffin,
Or for the funeral which I won't even attend.
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This is a parody of Henry Barlow's 'Building the Nation'.

Like always I have done a lot
In building our nation.
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Close that door, son
For I am old and my bones are weak.
I've seen 89 under the sun
Journey's been long burning up my wick.
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Tell me my leaders
How low shall you stoop?
Humiliate me like a homeless man
As if to you I was nothing!
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I wonder what she was thinking
When she decided she'd be leaving.
Did she compare the pros and cons
And the cons indeed won?
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Walking in rural Africa
I saw an unfinished mud hut.
I laughed softly.
Question myself I couldn't resist:
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O Uganda! I miss you.
I miss you and your sweet bananas.
I miss your matooke and the beautiful nyabos.
I miss your beautiful capital and its dirty ghetto
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Your hair is dirty, good sir -
Said an innocent child to me one day.
I have what they call African hair,
A natural nappy head.
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'Twas the most romantic,
'Twas the shortest lasting,
Like a hen lays an egg,
Like a cloth holds to a rotting peg.
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