the Infamous origins of COME BABY COME.
by Mwangi Kaffy on Tuesday, August 7, 2012 at 11:54am ·
Standing by the edges of a popular cliff,
enjoying the scenery,
busking in the warm beams of the sun,
he thought of his book,
his scribble of reality,
his attempt to remove scales from his countrymen eyes.
Yes,you guessed it right,
that lust men have adorned in their pants,
that fetish women have secretly longed for,
that new toy kids wont just let go off,
that snake that has long preyed on our country,
C.O.R.R.U.P.T.I.O.N
the dust was yet to settle,
and this simpletons hadn't read the prologue of his book,
yet every Odhiambo,Njuguna and Wambui
chipped in their un-patronizing opinions,
Siguna Wa Siguna was now a traitor,a liar,a loose mouth.
empty pot bellied crowds made to the streets,
left their mjengos and vibaruas
to demonstrate...not for the Unga or Sugar
but against a learned,articulate scholar,
poor Siguna Wa Siguna.
Not one had read the book,not a page whatsoever,
the 8$ survival minority in stinky rugs
those of 'tunaomba serikali iingilie'
had made their way to the streets,
ravenous mobs burning his effigy,
burying coffins to symbolize his death.
In another world and time
Siguna Wa Siguna would be a Hero
operas would be performed of him,
state choirs sing of his vehement patriotism,
but noooo - not in this defecating republic of 'wenye-inchi'
where public money is swept away under carpets of computer errors,
Siguna Wa Siguna wrote his political memoir,
Narrated his life in an attempt to record history,
tried to unmask the culture of impunity -
that has bedevilled our country for more than fifty years,
he told his story,
walked his talk,
and that ugly snake of tribalism reared its head
once again.
Siguna Wa Siguna like you and me,
had no enemies, but we are all intensely disliked by our friends.
_______________Kenya my dying Love.
© Mwangi Njoroge.
enjoying the scenery,
busking in the warm beams of the sun,
he thought of his book,
his scribble of reality,
his attempt to remove scales from his countrymen eyes.
Yes,you guessed it right,
that lust men have adorned in their pants,
that fetish women have secretly longed for,
that new toy kids wont just let go off,
that snake that has long preyed on our country,
C.O.R.R.U.P.T.I.O.N
the dust was yet to settle,
and this simpletons hadn't read the prologue of his book,
yet every Odhiambo,Njuguna and Wambui
chipped in their un-patronizing opinions,
Siguna Wa Siguna was now a traitor,a liar,a loose mouth.
empty pot bellied crowds made to the streets,
left their mjengos and vibaruas
to demonstrate...not for the Unga or Sugar
but against a learned,articulate scholar,
poor Siguna Wa Siguna.
Not one had read the book,not a page whatsoever,
the 8$ survival minority in stinky rugs
those of 'tunaomba serikali iingilie'
had made their way to the streets,
ravenous mobs burning his effigy,
burying coffins to symbolize his death.
In another world and time
Siguna Wa Siguna would be a Hero
operas would be performed of him,
state choirs sing of his vehement patriotism,
but noooo - not in this defecating republic of 'wenye-inchi'
where public money is swept away under carpets of computer errors,
Siguna Wa Siguna wrote his political memoir,
Narrated his life in an attempt to record history,
tried to unmask the culture of impunity -
that has bedevilled our country for more than fifty years,
he told his story,
walked his talk,
and that ugly snake of tribalism reared its head
once again.
Siguna Wa Siguna like you and me,
had no enemies, but we are all intensely disliked by our friends.
_______________Kenya my dying Love.
© Mwangi Njoroge.
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