Month: September 2022

The Uncharged Phone

Plugging in the phone
And forgetting to switch the power on
Is the greatest pain in the world

Banging the small toe
In the household furniture
Is a pain untold
And knocking that nerve on the elbow
Paralyzes the whole body
But leaving a plugged phone
Without turning the switch on
Is the greatest pain of all

Missing free food in public gathering
Is both painful and shameful
Particularly if you were next in line of service
Just like getting removed from a school tripped
That you had waited for an entire term
But forgetting to turn on that socket
After plugging a phone for overnight charging
Is a pain untold

It is quite painful
To knock your head on the window
And forgetting your balance in a matatu is traumatizing
To get a supplementary of 39 marks hurts
Similar to blackout while taking a hot shower
But the mother of all pains
Is finding out in the morning
That the phone did not charge at night
Because the switch remained off

When the favouite candidate loses an election
One loses appetite
When one game messes the jackpot bet
It is all tears
When she switches off the phone
After you have sent fare
And eaten a cocktail of mukombero, groundnuts and energy drink
The suffering is agonising
But still the king of torments
Is the uncharged phone
That mocks one in the morning
With battery low warning


When you return after a long day
And find your roommate feasted on the food
That you left behind to save your rumbling tummy
Is painful
Telling a joke but no one laughs is brutal
Losing an argument knowing you were right
Can hurt for days
But to believe your phone was charging
While the socket was off the entire time
Is the GOAT of all pains

The world is full of pains
Both real and perceived
We can tolerate them to different degrees
But we all draw the line
To a phone that failed to charge
When we believed
Its battery was full!

Embrace Cycling for A Healthy and Pollution Free Country

In the inaugural speech of President William Ruto, one of his agenda is ensuring that Kenya switches to green energy by the year 2030. One of the ways of ensuring that this is attained is by switching to non-motorized forms of transport such as using bicycles.

Although Kenya has a sizeable population of regular cyclists, the manner in which bicycle users are treated is quite discouraging and keeps other potential cyclists from using the mode of transport.

Multiple researches have established that cycling comes with many benefits. To begin with, it is a form of exercise. People who work in offices spend most of their time seated. While a few may afford regular gym sessions, majority of low-income earners do not have the privilege of accessing such services. Sedentary lifestyle is linked to multiple health issues including heart diseases and back problems. Cycling can greatly reverse such situation. Using bicycle just once a week is enough to keep a person fit

Changes in lifestyle has also seen increased cases of obesity in the country. Although being overweight or obese has many contributing factors, exercising is one of the recommended ways of cutting down on body weight. Using bicycle comes in handy again since cycling burns significant calories, enough to make a person lose weight.

Many cities and towns worldwide suffer from traffic jams. An average commuter wastes hundreds of hours a year stuck on road while commuting to or from work. Cycling is one way of reducing the number of motorized vehicles on roads thus saving time and making travelling easier in cites faced with traffic challenges such as Nairobi. The two wheeled vehicles do not emit any pollutant during their use thereby contributing to clean air as opposed to cars and motorbikes that use fossil fuels that release a lot of dangerous gases.

Many people have not embraced the cycling culture in Kenya. The main contributing factor is how we treat cyclists. Majority of people think bike owners are poor people who cannot afford cars. In major roads, motorists harass bike owners and treat them as pedestrians who should not access the highways. To worsen the matter, road designs to not favour them. Many accidents that kill cyclists or leave them with permanent injuries can be attributed to poor road designs lacking cyclist lane and bad driving culture. A number of public and private entities do not accommodate cyclists as well. In many institutions, cyclists are forced to abandon their bikes near entrances where they are exposed to malicious people and weather elements.

To make cycling more appealing, the country needs to entrench the culture that makes cycling more tolerable. To begin with, we must change the notion that cycling is for the poor. In some developed countries such as the Netherlands, it is quite common to see senior government officials cycling to work. Such actions boost the morale of ordinary citizens to love bicycle.

Institutions should be friendly to employees and visitors who enter their premises on bicycles. Instead of forcing cyclists to leave their bicycles near entrances, they should construct special parking that accommodate bicycles and allow the owners to lock them safely without worry of the bikes getting stolen or being affected by sun and rain. Many secondary schools have already established this culture and other organizations can follow suite.

Government should formulate policies to protect cyclists. Roads should have clearly demarcated lanes for cyclists to prevent matatus from harassing the former. There should also be laws to punish rogue drivers that bother riders or knock them. Many cyclists have lost their lives when careless drivers overtake the former and stop the vehicle unexpectedly in front the cyclists.

Finally, the government should introduce cycling allowance. Employees with cars usually get car allowance while their cycling counterparts are grouped with those who do not own any form of vehicle. Maintaining a bicycle needs a fair amount of money to ensure it is road worthy. Countries such as Belgium have already introduced bicycle allowance to workers who commute on bicycle regularly to their workplace. Kenya can equally adopt such policies to favor the cyclists and attract more people to buy and use bicycles

Embracing cycling will contribute towards the elimination of fossil fuels, lead to a healthy nation free of lifestyle diseases, reduce traffic jam in towns, and reduce the cost of money used to treat diseases that can be prevented through regular exercise such as cycling

We Did Not Send Our Son V

We know for sure
We did not send our son to fight
We did not give out son to others
We have lost some sons
Some have died in the battle field
The cruel hands of the enemy have cut short their lives
We honour these sons
Just like the son we did not send

Recently, our son went to battle
We knew it was his last battle
He knew it was his last battle
Our only son sent himself again
Before the war our son gave us a promise
He said with his own mouth
That they had stolen from him previously
After losing each battle, our son always came back weeping
This time our son swore he will never return to us
He will fight until the end.
Should the end not favour him he would fight again
Until he emerged victorious
Our son must have bewitched the entire clan
He must hypnotized all his clansmen
We always believe him
All the wars he has fought we did no send him
Our son went alone but convinced us
That his wars were ours

Like all the previous wars
We sharpened our weapons
We oiled our guns
We sacrificed to our ancestors
We taunted the enemy
Knowing that our son must win his last battle
We were confident we were to win
We knew our son would carry the day
We ensured the battle ground was fair
We checked all terrain and confirmed the enemy would not ambush us
We started celebrating before the war
We divide the spoil before the battle
The wicked hand of fate was about to unleash its mighty whip
Finally the battle started

We put a fight
We scratched the enemy
All our anger we let loose upon our antagonist
This was our last battle
This was our son’s last battle
Losing was not an option
The war was fierce
In the evening, we all retreated
Each to their own camp

When we accessed the damage
Our son had lost again
We were good
Our enemy was better
We know our son was good
But he had trained the enemy some seasons ago

There returns our son
Old, tired and broken
He is shaggy and unkempt
Other clans are mocking him
Other clans are mocking us
He has failed again
He has been defeated in the war that he sent himself to fight
Our son has come back empty handed
Nobody is running to  meet him
No reception is there
No busa prepared to rejoice
His once bright face is gone
Replaced by gloom
His powerful voice
Is only a weak growl
His junior warriors left with few shares from the war
They are busy in their simba
Nobody is here to welcome our disgraced warrior
We all know we did not send our son
He went out to bring victory
He has returned in tatters
Empty!

Owino Ooko

We Did Not Send Our Son IV

Did our son stop going out to war
Did he hung his boots
Did our son seek truce?

No! Our son went out again
To fight a war we never sent him to fight
Before he went to war again
Our son sent away his trusted generals
One of the generals would later beat our son
One of his most trusted fighters
Thrashed our son many moons later
Because our son went to fight
A war we did not send him to fight

When our son went again to war
He lost mightily
Our son left with wounds
He did not get anything
No meat for him to roast
No spoil to share
No wine to drink
Our son came back empty handed
He should have stopped there this cheeky son
But like a brat he is
Our son is a honey badger
He likes fighting the big and the mighty
Our sons take on enemies bigger than him.

Before his wounds could heal
Before his scabs became scars
Before his tears dried
While we were still assessing the damage from fighting
Our son dragged us to war again

We heard that he was fighting
Our sons picked a bad foe
A cheat in war
While our son fought with bare hands
The enemy used technology
And he had many soldiers
We fought harder than our son
We held our ground even as the enemy
Rained torrents of blows on us
Determined, we surrounded our son
Never would the enemy touch him
Never would the enemy take us hostage
Never would our property become war spoils
But our son had a surprise for us

While we were busy fighting the enemy
Our son was eating with the enemy
While we bled in the streets
He was on bed with our adversary
While we were fighting his war
While we poured our life for him
Our son’s mouth was full
Our son became suddenly silent
Little did we know
That our son was observing table manners!
Like a decent man that he is not,
Our son knows to shut his mouth while eating!

Our son slithered like a venomous snake
To shake hand
Like a man shakes his organ after urination
Our brother shook the enemy’s hand
Like schlong dripping urine
The foe offered his filthy hand
Our greedy son shook the cursed hand

The handshake was cursed
It bewitched our son
Our son loved to eat
But suddenly his appetite tripled
He loved to drink
In a moment he became a drunkard
Our son loved deals
He became epitome of corruption

We could not believe when we saw
Our own son eating alone with the enemies
In a twist of fate
Our son abused the hand that once fed him
Shamelessly our son became the proverbial donkey
Whose gratitude was a kick
Our son abused the bridge after crossing river
The pillar that many moons ago supported our son
The shoulder that he had leaned on to cry
The hands that had patted his back
The shade that has sheltered him from sun
Our ungrateful son decided to label enemy

Our clan started getting tired of the son
Warriors do not fight forever
Musicians do not compose eternally
Even a tree cannot produce fruit perpetually
Like every breathing being
Our son started showing fatigue
He was no longer just our son!
He elevated himself to a father
Our own child that we had watched grow
Turned from a small boy
He had measured them and found them to fill his hands
And so he was no longer just our son
As his feet soldiers from other clans called him father
Our son demands that we all call him father
I will one day narrate how our son bullied us
I will one day sing our how our child sat on us
Before that day comes
The world must know
That our son sent himself
We did not send him to fight!

The Prodigal Comrade

There were two comrades. And the older of them said to HELB, “HELB, give me the share of my allocation.” And he received his allocation. Not many days later, the comrade gathered all he had and squandered his property in careless living. And when he had spent everything, a severe famine arose in the campus. So, he went out and started borrowing from Mama Mboga. And he was longing to be fed with the remains of Sukuma wiki sticks and no one gave him anything.

When he came to his senses, he said, “How many of my fellow comrades have food to spare and here I am starving to death! I will set out and go to mjengo and say to foreman: Foreman, I have sinned against HELB and my parents. I am no longer worthy to be called a comrade; make me like one of your servants.” So, he got up and went to the foreman

While he was still a long way off, the foreman saw him and said to his servants, “Bring quickly the biggest wheelbarrow and give it to him and put a spade on his hand and gumboots on his feet. And bring him to the busiest site, and let us begin to work.”

Now the fresher was in lecture hall, and he came and drew near the house, he heard work and groans. And he called one of the servants and asked him what these things meant. And he said to him, “Your fellow comrade has come, and the foreman has given him work. But he was shocked and refused to believe.

The foreman came out and entreated him but he answered, “Look, I will stay around the campus for many years but you have not given me even a simple job to do. But when this continuing student came, who has devoured his HELB with slayqueens, you gave him job!” And he said to him, “Son, you are always with me, and your turn will come. It was fitting to give him job, because he was broke and now he will get money, he was hungry but he can now afford to buy food after this.”

We Did Not Send Our Son III

We did not send our son to war
He joined willingly

Behind the scenes Wuodwa formed a strong army
He went to other clans
Beating drums of war
Suddenly, his enemy was everyone’s enemy
”We cannot leave our son to fight alone”
“Giru giru!
The elders shouted
”Telo ber machiegni!”
Other screamed
So we went out again
This time, our son was the commander
Our son had his generals
No longer would others give us the legs of the cow
No longer would others eat meat as we drunk tasteless soup
This time it was our turn to chuto ring’o

The best team does not always win
The fastest runner does not get medals in every race
The cheetah does not catch antelopes in all the hunts
Our son was the best fighter
He was the fastest runner
Our child was the fastest cheetah
But he did not get the medal
He put forth his neck but the second best grabbed the medal
He put a spirited chase but an enemy snatched the prey
He dribbled well
But the referee gave someone else the win
Yes! The loser received the trophy

The son we never sent
Came back empty
We refused to let his win go away
We refused to allow the enemy have what was ours
Our son was too lenient
We watched in horror
We saw with our naked eyes
Our son shaming us
Our son became a coward

Like a scary story
Like an unbelievable tale
Like A joke that should be censored
We witnessed our son leave his spoil
We saw the enemy sit on the table
The seat meant for our son bore someone else’s buttocks
The knife of slaughtering the fat bull
Was in someone else’s hand
Our son left the high table again
In disbelief, we saw the foe lie to our son

He cheated our son the bad foe
He promised to give our son half the spoil
He said our son will get good parts of the loot
When the sharing began
Our son got half the cow
But it was rotten meat
He got half the fruits but they were all unripe
Our son received half the land
But it was unproductive
The meat our son received was all bones
We did not get anything from the loot
We went out to help our son fight
But he did not share the spoil
Our son ate with his generals only
And flatly told us his enemy had grabbed the share
That our son was to give us
We did not send our son to war
He dragged us into the war
And ate with his enemy
While we hungrily watched outside

We Did Not Send Our Son II

Our son converged many warriors
And joined hands with others
The enemy of your enemy is your friend
So our son said
He went out to conquer his enemy
His foe became our foe
His friends became our friend
We waged war
We fought like never before
Our son was a serious fighter
But he was not the commander
Our son sold his right to lead the war
He opted to be the king maker
The commander took a break
And our son took the lead
Fortunately we won
But when the table for diving the spoil was set
We realized that our son was not the commander
Our son was not among the generals
Our lovely son was a mere foot soldier

Our son was given morsels
As others ate oguch gweno
our son was given orenge
Others took boche
All he got were bones
While the rest sat on the high table
Our own was placed behind with the ordinaries
He should have listened our son
And quit his battles
We would have turned our foes to friends
We would have received fatter parts of the cow
We would have received a fair share of the big kuon
But our son had his plans

We Did Not Send Our Son I

We did not send our son to war
He left all by himself
On his own accord did our son leave

Many moons ago
When our brother was still alive
The father and the son
Went about looking for war
They went to a homestead which had an owner
And tried taking it over
By getting in through the window!

Thus, the woes of our son started
The home owner declared war on all
And mouse trap took victims of both
The participants and the participants not
All because our son
Decided to go to war,
Unsent!

We saw the plight of our son
And decided to help him fight
Since the homeowner became
A rabid dog
Biting everything on its way
Our son changed the story
Suddenly he was the victim
And everyone else the villain

One sad evening
Our brother breathed his last
The home remained for the son
Our son was now the leader
And like our brother
Our son assisted in provoking everyone
And turning our friends into enemies

Many moons passed
And our son decided to expand
His territory
Like a grown bull
Like a mature cock
Our place was too small for our son
And out he went
Yet to another war

He dragged us to the war again
Clansmen should not leave one of their own
Kinsmen cover each other
To prevent the enemy from stabbing their back
Like faithful members of the herd
We went out with our son

Alas!
The enemy knew all our moves
What a beating we received!
Cowards live to fight another day
Nursing our wounds,
We coiled our tails
Knowing that our son had learnt his lesson
And was to avoid any future war
Many moons passed again
Like the spirit of juok
Like one overtaken by love
Our son went out again
To fight

Owino Ooko