Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day? Poem by Kimani wa Mumbi

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
No. Summers in Africa are hot as hell:
Rough dusty winds our thatched huts shake
While heaven's bloodshot eye on boiling our brains concentrates;
That's the reason we are technologically Third rate.
Shall I then compare thee to a winter's day?
What is winter? Not in Africa have I heard of that;
Two ironic seasons do we have:
One hot as hell, the other
Wet as hell (like Noah's day) .
I shall thence leave the weather to the gods,
I shan't deal with the African weather, my love.
Thou art to me most precious
Than the rarest of precious metals.