Waithera,My First Love

Sometimes I feel I know nothing about life But I do know something about Kenya I come from the gustily, hilly terrains of rural Ingavira Where huts form bungalow sorts of flawless beauty An ambiance of warm soothing atmosphere And all my life My home has been here, yes here. Kenya. I’ve gone to school with Patels and Mohammeds Stole pencils that belonged to Cheptoo and Mutisya Their rubbers had no name tags either It was outright We were brothers and sisters of a beautiful nation Through those dusty years Growing up playing kalongolongowith my peers I loved being dad And mum was mostly always a Taita nyako a.k.a Wakesho Her tiny waist entangled with a yellow leso Laced with a Swahili proverb that read ‘Mtaka cha mvunguni, sharti ainame‘ She served us uji In Cocacola bottle tops And we drunk it like our fathers would Sipping every imaginary drop into our heads Packed mud in sachets of goodie-goodie And the wooden block that was the TV Screened our richness in its silence I do remember brikicho How I used to follow Mwende everywhere she used to hide We always got found together, tipo! Whenever mama cooked chapati I always had to steal a piece And run out to share it with Mumbi Achieng got jealous most of the time But I loved her still They had to take turns Over who would play ‘mother’ No one knew One day they would make beautiful wives Wafula was my best friend in primary school He always passed me the ball whenever it got onto his foot It was enchanting And Kipchirchir made sure I didn’t score Taught us that life is a battle And we would laugh about it on our way home Joking to each other You could never feel alone Waithera… She wrote me my first love letter I was a shy lot Growing up from the ghetto Coming to terms with the realities of life That adolescence is real My little omera begun to bubble up She faced me with such gusto And in my innocence Got into my skin to hide I love it when we sit together To talk about our country’s tricky politics And our funny love lives Laughing at ourselves in full candour Life makes more sense this way Than beefing hatred into our hearts Over five people who don’t care about us! I love it when I cry on your shoulders Unashamedly Seeking for solace In my drunk sorrows Because you are my Kenya And I’ll need you more tomorrow Please, Do not judge me because of where I’m from I love you for who you are My tribe should not be my scar…