Song Of Farewell (For Nathan Yano) Poem by Wafula p'Khisa

There was a moth feasting on the contents of our head
making the trunk to sway backwards
The smartest brains on the compound hid in the shadow of silence
to waste time on none- issues like soccer and sportpesa
For fear of being served with marching orders at inopportune moments.

But you refused to chorus their dirge for rotting ideas and frustrated dreams
And offered to be chewed like cud by their restless mouths, from office to bed
When you stood on a high pedestal and decried the sickness of this place, trying to draw them to the fading line of light
You had to be picked and dropped like a grain of chaff from a bowl of rice, brother
Those who stand to be counted have a price to pay!

Now that your powerful wheels will no longer thrust their head into this green fold
That we will no longer enjoy free rides after slaving for this nation
That we will no longer bathe in the tranquilizing waters of freedom in the freedom corner
Is just hard to accept, really hard
But what can the poor do, when the owner of the yam lifts their blade to seal their fate?

May your star shine once again, whilst you manoeuvre through the wild
To find a finer path to convey you to a saner place
Where your fat dreams and aspirations will find a warm welcome.

But don't fold your hands and turn your back against the road
We too may be beckoned to follow you into the cold
For we, like you, know not to seal our mouths with hot pepper inside
We may spit it into their unbelieving eyes soon
And be asked to hit the road
Since we are all travellers
stationed here by debts of life, waiting for time of departure
And innocence is not a thing of mortals.