Rite Of Passage Poem by Kinyua Karanja

It hurts and really feels pain
Not like stung of giant wasp
Nor close to fury of mum's cane
Nothing similar a mind can grasp
It hits the most fragile of all nerve.

It hurts and really feels pain
Not like bite from African red ant
Nor a tight pinch from an aunt
A dosage of uneasiness and fear
For a month a pant you can't wear.

A loud train of the songs and dancers
Then crowds of idle young men and girls
Locked in an endless chatter and banters
All manner of topics; love, all end in girls
Recurring meals some delicious and others.

Folks say sun is setting early and fast
Our customs and rites rotting in graves
All yearn for gone days and their past
A wrecked ship in deep sea, who to saves?
If not we; they challenge the young blood.

Circumcision like all other rites of passage
In African culture, it's an integral life stage
It makes men out of boys; The future hope
It's suppose to be painful and memorable
To all boys of teen age; nobody can dope.