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Teacher Kevin Ouma Poem
Oh Africa
Many nations envy you for your productivity
Blessed sons and daughters of talents and ability
You've shaken the world with powerful potential
Your sons have led those who called them Monkeys
You are a real giant though you are still asleep
That's why waste all your time to weep
Why do you always think about overseas?
Those envious men do not want to see you
It's time you unite and do what you want
If you continue worshipping the maker of the guns
One time the gunshot will blow all your guts
Africa you are so blessed with a protective melanin
The immunity of your sons surprised the colony
Your land productive and your sons creative
Why cry mama Africa
Why must you important the clothes they have worn
Why can't you see that the ragged is torn
Why are you craving for jobs in Dubai
Where your sons and daughters work hard to die
They call you the black because your skin is dark
They don't want at all to be associated with black
Until they are killing their own black
Footballers are bullied for just being dark
Most of your problems come from their land
Before they came you didn't know of money
Today love for money has brought corruption
You girls die on streets 'cause of prostitution
You need it to progress
Yet it makes you regress
They just brought the internet and your youth lost their morals
Your administrators were elders, chiefs and king
They didn't have the guns but peace they were keeping
No curfew and no lockdown, no covid-19
You didn't have to cry that the police is brutal
Your meals were healthy and your drugs natural.
By Teacher Kevin
Copyright © Teacher Kevin Ouma | Year Posted 2022
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Teacher Kevin Ouma Poem
DEAR DREAM DON’T DIE.
Dear dream, dear my dream, keep hope alive
For most times you wonder if you’ll really survive,
You worry all the time if really the future is bright
Why do you worry yet the far end is white
The tall men around us have seen the light
You keep questioning what am still doing here
As if everyone has the future so near
Am wasting your time but forgive me my dear
The journey is so rough that I must change the gear
Patience pays, I think the wise men were clear
Why complaining yet you keep changing the game
If I don’t achieve you are the victim of blame
From pilot, doctor, lawyer to journalist, you’re wavy like a flame
Then teaching, preaching and music are you looking for fame?
Please choose your side before you’re too hard to tame.
Please just wait for me to sharpen my wedge
If am not well prepared then I will not manage
I'll hoover with you to the end of my age
Then you’ll pain my mind as though you revenge
Asking what I did in my younger age.
Lupita said that all dreams are valid.
This is a truth both bold and so candid
But for you the dreamer, you must be so rigid
Adding hope to patience will not be stupid
Please maintain your measures as if fighting covid.
At last I remember that dreams don’t expire
It’s only we the dreamers who can retire
Patience, hope and planning is all you require
To make up your woods and to set it afire
For all fruits of the future will come from the prior.
Lets achieve our dreams
By aka
Copyright © Teacher Kevin Ouma | Year Posted 2022
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Teacher Kevin Ouma Poem
Berry Berry sweet Berry.
I wish to have your taste early
your warm hug in the morning cold
makes me rise so strong and bold
At dawn when all men rise
To examine the stars with the eye of the wise
I long for you,
my sweet berry.
I yell to the winds, "Oh, winds, carry me."
Carry me to the land of the west
to the place of the beauty and best
Whose love so sweet and better to taste
in both slow motion and sweeter in haste
I miss my Berry, my only Berry
On whose laps am so light to carry.
Her skin is soft and so tender to touch
Her chest is soft, even plusher than the couch.
The left and the right teeth divide in a gap
oh, when I see that, I never nap
Her round, appealing hunch is a plus.
Her curving crus terminates in a plush.
Without you I can breathe
without you my heart has to bleed
I just in dreams that I can’t believe
I say, without you, life can’t be lived.
come back to me and revive my heart.
I promise to keep you just in my heart.
By
Copyright © Teacher Kevin Ouma | Year Posted 2022
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Teacher Kevin Ouma Poem
Back and forth I climb the mountain
Up and down I go just like a fountain
I sweat in toil
I grind and moil
Back and forth I ascend the mountain
Copyright © Teacher Kevin Ouma | Year Posted 2022
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Teacher Kevin Ouma Poem
Any time I return, my heart starts to ache,
For Granny, dear Danny, no one could fake.
Beloved of children, of girls and of boys,
A pillar of courage, a bringer of joys.
Where is the laughter, the sparkle, the glow?
She rests in the quiet, the woods far below.
Your harvest endured from season to season,
Your coins lay in pillows, safe with good reason.
Merchants adored your grains-gleaming gold,
Never a kernel of chaff to be sold.
Where is the farmer, the banker, the glow?
She rests in the quiet, the woods far below.
Each time I left or returned from the city,
Your prayers, your hugs, your dances and smiles,
Kept me unworried and happy for miles
Your gentle short frowns, your anger so mild,
Could never outlast the heart of a child.
You’d beckon us close to taste what you made,
As though your sure hands in the kitchen might fade.
Do you still smile, dance, pray, and bestow—
Or just rest in the quiet, the woods far below.
I could never tire of your welcoming home,
A compound so wide, yet you swept every loam.
A grandmother’s house, yet spotless and bright,
With a pot of warm porridge that lasted each night.
The endless calabash we drained to the brim,
And fruits without seasons, forever in prim.
We still long for granny, the friend that we know,
But she rests in the quiet, the woods far below.
By Teacher Kevin Ouma
Copyright © Teacher Kevin Ouma | Year Posted 2025
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Teacher Kevin Ouma Poem
I have no dad and I have to know that,
He did not leave wealth behind
But helpless kids
And a mom
Really?
Yes He did, and I have to know that.
I have a life to fund with my slim slip
Compulsory bills to always pay
Basic needs to also fund
A large family to aid
Plus own growth
Surely?
Yes I do, and I have to know that.
Born and raised deep in the humble village
No early exposure to urban life
No idea for corporate world
Little financial literacy
No connections
or deals
really?
Absolutely not, and I surely have to know that
Now I am older, well grown, learned and highly adored,
A reputable profession with meagre income
Invited guest in most fund raisings
Deemed poverty chain-breaker
But feeble financially
Surely?
Imagine, and no doubt at all, I have to know that.
Dad did not show me how to get myself a wife.
Neither did he teach my how to seduce
And that girls also need money
Now I'm a stranded single
And broke too
Really?
For sure, and I have to know that.
There is too much of a cumber over my shoulders.
A bigger head and big body over feeble feet
Like an elephant standing of pigs legs
Or a lorry on bicycle's wheels
I'm I really stable?
Surely?
No I'm not, and I have to know that.
By Teacher Kevin.
Copyright © Teacher Kevin Ouma | Year Posted 2025
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Teacher Kevin Ouma Poem
We left home behind,
hearts full of hope,
dreams draped on backs,
dust dancing on shoes,
the city ahead —
calling us forward.
Tall towers took time,
but so did costs.
Bread was a bill,
air wasn’t free
Even sleep stung —
priced in pressure of thoughts.
Coins clattered too soon,
pockets pressed dry.
We chased light,
found cold steel.
Time ate dreams,
tangled and true.
We counted months,
but gained grief.
Rain mocked us,
so did noise.
Home hung farther,
each city night.
Plans pooled into prayers,
hope huddled, thin.
We worked wide,
waged just peanuts —
enough to stay stuck
in survival’s spin.
Still, we hold
that first fire's flicker.
Not lost but paused,
not failed just finding.
We left home to build home.
Copyright © Teacher Kevin Ouma | Year Posted 2025
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