Stolen Life At Dadaab
At Dadaab you see stolen life
Scrapping saucepan bottoms to live
With tiny waists and twiggy limbs
Sting-less wasps in the camp they are!
The wasted body, shrunken eyes
Tell many poems about stolen life
Life abused, tortured and betrayed
By the stinging bees of jungle world
You can hear mother-wasps moan
Father-wasps lost in viral thoughts
Continuously asking the question;
‘My God and my Lord, why me’?
Little wasps, the jungle’s nobodies,
Fathered to pay ugly bitter prices,
Shade sacrificial innocent blood,
For the untouchables to live in joy
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