president

Wow, We Turned Fifty: First Published “The President’s Eulogy” an anthology Elenah Kim They took away pen and paper, They took away my hands, A total mutation it was, But heaven knows why, I still got this power, That which propels me, The power to speak. And so I will talk about it, The evil and rust in society, How our politicians, are not ashamed; Of passing dehumanising bills, How they would not make it to parliament to vote for a bill that would help Wanjiku, How they in large numbers turn up to pass their salary increment bill, ‘May those of the same opinion say I, And it echoes through the hills, valleys, mountains and the plains ‘I’ Of how are they accumulating wealth through Wanjiku taxi money, And of how SHE now lives on edge Below a dollar a day, That’s her way Her sing song. USAID, UKAID, appeals are made. Yes, Of how a seventy year long aquifer could possibly help a nation survive, Yet the people in Turkana; Where this life giving resource is located are dying of hunger, Their lives still at the mercy of well wishers and donors, Of how our people are dying as we watch; As our economy builders our dear teachers and doctors strike for salary increment, Children having to be sent home, Our dear patients; Should I talk of a home or six feet under? Mass graves without a proper sendoff. A grotesque sight! I will talk of the insecurity which aren’t like mid life crisis Grenades hauled at our dear ones daily, You never know the day or the hour, For even churches and mosques are not spared. I will speak for the disabled, Why a modern day contractor would not put up escalators; In that skyscraper and justice is denied. Of how we lost all in civil war and with the promise of a better tomorrow, I voted you in, I thought I would get out of the murk Why I will keep suffering from these bills you pass each day, Why my five children are now school dropouts and now pick tea in your plantation; For five shillings a day, Why at the end of the day I will go home with a grumbling stomach, An empty bag, And my hungry emaciated babies’ eager with anticipation, Will have to sleep on an empty stomach, And why in the morning I will find one took for the street, And later hear he was marooned by the city council, City mortuary just for a few days, If I do not claim the body, Six feet under in an unknown grave he would go, Yes, without a ceremony. Wow, I can’t believe we turned fifty!