The Voice of the Oppressed

The grandeur of my life are elusive Mine ain't melioration; it's oppression My free life is cramped by chains of servitude And shout out loud I mustn't Because even the power of my tongue is tied Blank in me is the power to be heard I'm the subject to the oppression When I watch myself through the mirror of futurity The cockled face of destitution is all that reflects The hope of change has evanished from me Every of my dreams is chimerical Not because I lack the might and sight But 'coz what's mine is circumscribed from me That's why I shriek out my voice The basic laws bestow power upon me to express I am told the sovereign power belongs to me And it's me that's the government But why when I demand for scrupulousness I am squelched by a spine-chilling duress? And when I bark out loud for freedom- The ruthless battalion beat me like a godawful enemy? O pauperized beggar I have turned Delving into a do-gooder's pocket for help I die on the vine like a born beggar Like I am indolent; like I am a woolgatherer While oligarch's receptacle sucks a surfeit of my levy And they grow and laugh and cheer As they watch me ache in poverty and oppression Now to my ruler is my voice expressed But he is as silent as a shadow And as blind as a night without moon But I know when I strike him at the back A livid dog he will turn to me Ready to bite and tear and maim And if the brutality fails to choke off my voice Death crop up as the answer to my entreaty NB: Kibra slums in Nairobi, claimed to be the largest in Africa, has been undergoing a desolate adversity. Residences here live below one dollar a day; some go without meals for several days. Paths are muddy; no water; no proper housing; residences are sickly, and almost everyday about 10-30 people are reported dead from this slum. There's a hassle of malnutrition among children resulting to constant truancy and many other maladies-related problems. Everyday these people are always clobbered by the government whenever they express their grievances or shout out for their rights. They are attacked and brutalised by the police. They have no power of voice, of speech, of life. Yet every election, they, as highly populated as they are, are coerced into voting the government and promised change. No single day have their hues and cries been heard by those in authority. I stand with people whose voices are seen as an emcumbrance to those in authority. May freedom ring for them.