kenya, politics

kenya – a love letter


by mukoma wa ngugi

inside looking out, snow is falling and i am thinking  |  how happy we once were, when promises and dreams  |  came easy and how when we, lovers covered onlyby a warm eldoret night, you waved a prophecy  |  at a shooting star and said, “when the time comes  |  we shall name our first child, kenya” and how i

laughed and said “yes our child then shall be country  |  and human” and we held hands, rough and toughened  |  by shelling castor seeds. my dear, when did our

clasped hands become heavy chains and anchors holding  |  us to the mines and diamond and oil fields? our hands  |  calloused by love and play, these same hands – when

did they learn to grip a machete or a gun to spit hate?  |  and this earth that drinks our blood like a hungry child  |  this earth that we have scorched to cinders – when we

are done eating it, how much of it will be left for kenya?  |  my dear, our child is born, is dying. tomorrow the child  |  will be dead.

mukoma wa ngugi, a kenyan poet, author of hurling words at consciousness and co-editor of pambazuka news, shares with us a poem commissioned by the bbc world service on the ongoing crisis in kenya.