The Painful poem

The painful poem,

Of a president so dissident, that he signs into law

A bill that illegalizes this painful poem

In the pretext that he is giving Kenyans security.

A painful poem that images how the Shabaab must be scoffing us

Laughing at us for our cluelessness, carelessness and recklessness

On matters national.

The painful poem that,

even the political science professor supports issues because they are CORD

or because the issues are Jubilee.

Conjuring  demons of thoughtlessness to dine in the library,

Amid shots of Viceroy, of a girl and glasses of Namaqua.

And ululations in defeat, celebrations in turmoil

As Bishops, pastors and all men in white

Join in the game of taking sides, blindly, ignorantly and blow-fully.

This is the painful poem

Of thousands of graduates who will brush the tarmac

Paint it sole-black,

In the search for an opportunity to care for their destitute families

Disillusioned mothers and tired fathers,

Who sold land, cattle and shares

To pay for an education whose lecturers were clueless, copypasters and money hungries

Unaware of the need for quality, the need for quantity.

This is a painful poem,

Of a MP who pays the judge to implicate,

A youthman for criticizing the management of a people fund

Because doing so undermines a smelly authority embedded on,

Corruption, mediocrity, inadequacy and gross stupidity.

This poem, this painful poem,

mirrors the use of violence and inexistent laws

to annihilate fighters for justice and equity

In favor of anarchy, monarchy, allergy for justice and misogyny.

This is a painful poem,

About a country christened as a strong economic power,

Compared against dwarfs,

Used as a key PR to show the importance of extreme capitalism

Where the rich die in gold beds as the poor grapple for the paper,

and the name of God is used to describe impunity and impurity

Perverting the Qu’ran, Bible and the common law,

As a thousand ignorant tribe-mates of the king ululate

Celebrate,

and congratulate

The reverse speed to precolonialism, self-colonialism and primitivity,

Oblivious of the possibility of a Southern Sudan, a Syria or Swazi,

Where power is carried in the balls of the king,

Transmitted through ejaculation, orgasm of a mole organism.

This is a painful poem that,

Describes,

Misleadership, a third world and a no world.

This is a painful poem that cries for a Wanjiku, an Atieno,

And the Maccs who despite reading a lot of the Max and the Marx

Finds himself on his marks,

Criticizing and critiquing

But again, who cares.