POEM: LIBATIONS TO THE REAL HEROES OF THIS NATION

Today to Break with Tradition I will pen a Poem to my Love Kenya:

As I sit in introspection asking if being born Kenyan is an act of omission,

I shed tears for all the victims of corruption, mediocrity and intimidation,

All those onerous souls my heart goes out to in cogitation,

Children shot into oblivion not aware of any sins of commission,

I pour out my libations to the real heroes of this nation.

 

Inconsolably I find myself weeping for this nation,

Unable to fathom why a blind man tries to burden upon himself the obligation,

Of trying to dance to a tune of which he has no cognition,

Of this I aver with unrequited unequivocation,

I pour out my libations to the real heroes of this nation.

 

To all the citizens who hold their fellow countrymen in utmost derision,

They deplore in no uncertain terms to the economy their contribution,

Punished in retribution for insufficient aggression in primitive accumulation,

Thus they live in tenements diabolically accused of planning no rent remission,

I pour out my libations to the real heroes of this nation.

 

To what do we owe this retrogressive re-introduction?

Of the most archaic & sardonic terms like sedition and subversion,

Since when did the strife for your rights become an act of the treason,

Punishable by arrests, false accusations, and even deportation,

I pour out my libations to the real heroes of this nation.

 

Why are there guys keen to oppose the virtue of secession?

Yet they spend days and nights in macabre curses and incantation,

Burying dogs, smoking weed and maliciously threatening the circumcision,

Of veritable citizens, peace-loving, most polished and most upright men of this nation,

I pour out my libations to the real heroes of this nation.

 

Why did Kimathi, Gen. Chui and N’ Marete cede rights to respiration?

Fighting for the rights that are now held in indifferent disaffection,

Only for the benefits to fall to the seeds of home-guards, worse than crucifixion,

They run their mouths abominably claiming their kinsmen were foremost in the fight for liberation,

I pour out my libations to the real heroes of this nation.

 

Mediocrity is rewarded and excellence reviled to oblivion,

A hangover survivor was feted for maize and bean’s mastication,

In ignorance preach fornication as a means to increase the population of their bastion,

A man is deported to winter lands for remaining true to his opinion,

I pour out my libations to the real heroes of this nation.

 

I fail to see why to someone’s rural home has to be sent 1001 delegations,

Of men and women purporting to unite this nation but only in majority exclusion,

They prostrate before mere mortals in sycophancy and hollow expression,

Of their undying loyalty and to demigods proffer meritless orison,

I pour out my libations to the real heroes of this nation.

 

I have buried a man whose life was extinguished in a blaze of frustration,

After a promising start full of ambition and vision,

He failed to sufficiently convince of value in his worthy innovation,

Broken & crushed under the weight of unfulfilled expectations,

I pour out my libations to the real heroes of this nation.

 

I crash to the ground in limitless lamentation,

Commiserating inconsolably at the very act of castration,

Of the very bull that was supposed to lead to the propagation,

Of the better days we all aspire to as a civilization,

I pour out my libations to the real heroes of this nation.

 

How on earth did anyone have the stones to suspend our constitution?

That by 50% +1 apparently led to his irrevocable election,

Is it in dereliction of the existence of our tapestry as a nation?

He avers accept and move on yet he’s all emotional and mushy at the inversion of the equation,

I pour out my libations to the real heroes of this nation.

 

In vengeful abhorrence of all the tenets of our constitution.

He lives in contempt of all the articles of Justice and retribution,

Disdainful of the rank and file of the media and our freedom of information,

Scorn by the bucketful of all foes and even compatriots in the opposition,

I pour out my libations to the real heroes of this nation.

 

That I may be naïve and ignorant is my humble submission,

But he who casts a shadow to the purveyors of the light is the real enemy of this nation,

That you may plant roses in all their glory expecting to yield carnations,

Hypocritically attempt to preach peace disregarding the truths and historical injustices commission,

I pour out my libations to the real heroes of this nation.