From Kenya came Kenyatta the great
One of Africa's greatest of all time
a land rich in nobility and heroism
yet greatly disliked by nature!
Situated in the scorching sun of Africa
and rarely visited by annual showers.
Four years on, nature has withheld its dews!
Not a day of rainfall to quench our thirst
and nature's fury. Kenya, a Somali ally
and sister in suffering is in pains and
needs healing and relief.
The echoes of your children lingers
and rent the earth. Their tears
sears my conscience, nay the
conscience of the world. They
cried and wept until
their straight failed them.
The cry of hunger, thirst and
our neighbors, stingy as rain,
pity us not! Oh, wickedness!
For four years, the
blessing of rainfall cast away
Our cattle daily die of starvation
the tillers of the ground lament
vehemently because of nature's
Our frail skeleton buried six feet under
keep us safe
from further decline and send
us rain in due season.
I weep hard to watch lovely
Kenya decline in value and substance
and to see her children tears
drop on my conscience.