On the meaning of life

By Karani Kelvin.

What

I wonder

Is the meaning of life?

You can be good

Or bad; rich or poor

Black or white; Christian

Or Muslim; Short or tall

It matters not what station you are

How long and tiresome the journey is

Or how short and thrilling

Or how great and fulfilling:

We all come to one predictable

End.

Fall of the shilling and other stories

By Karani Kelvin.

These are hard times.

The dance of the silver shilling

Has no lining

Like the cloud

It dances with the vigor of youth

At a sprinters speed

It is a new dance

To a painful song that doesn’t end

The dollar, is slower, stable even

Having curved its place

In the community of currencies

It reclines in the loftiness of its majesty

Daring others to usurp its power

Wet Fantasies, Dry Realities

 By Oyoo Mboya.

I have watched their bodies writhe
Lost in the pleasures of a wet dream --

The In-law to Alego

By Abraham O'Obunga.

Their two children were about three years old when they first divorced. That was in the fifth month of the year. Anna could not believe it when John broke the news to her one evening.

Are we worth redeeming?

By Karani Kelvin.

Christ, if you were to live again 
In this mortal form
Would you die for us?
Would you silently suffer the indignity
Of being beaten, spat on and abused?
Would you countenance mortal man
Who you can wish away by a mere thought?
Look at how we live!
We don’t care much, not even for ourselves
Are we worth redeeming?
Lord, would you shed your blood
For such a creature as I? 

Soccer Mania*

By Langat Japheth.

 I mourn for Manchester City, my team:
Thrashed by Arsenal, five-nil
Yesterday at ….field;
I forget the playground’s name!

I Mourn for the Beginner*

By Anorld Mutugi.

Who loves a beginner?
What counts except experience?
In every aspect and field
Of romance, writing and working
But where do you gain experience
Without a first chance?

My girlfriend waits for her man to return from Kismayu

By Karani Kelvin

My girlfriend is waiting for the return of her man
She tells me: Nothing makes me anxious than
His presence there, and yet, nothing excites me
More than this; that he is there for the country,
You and me. What greater love can there be?

My Facebook Darling

By Abraham O'Obunga.
 
‘Dear, I have just picked a letter from the post office. It is from Moi University and I tell you what…, I am so happy. I can’t believe it. Imagine, we’ll be at the same university. I am very happy. I can’t…’

Ninako Kwetu[i]

By t. Michael Mboya.

In January 2008 our dreams

of making a home

in Eldoretⁱⁱ, where we had lived

for fifteen years

were beaten out of matatus

on the Nairobi-Nakuru highway

at Naivasha

and slaughtered.

The blood

that flowed as runoff

was licked dry by rabid flames

in the market centres and villages

of Uasin Gishu.

And our hearts remembered

the songⁱⁱⁱ:

Sikuzaliwa juu ya miti

Ninako kwetu

Ninako kwetu

Kwa Baba na Mama.

Uref(i): The Founding

By t. Michael Mboya.

No cockerel is cradled

in the crook of my left armⁱⁱ

My wife’s head does not sway

under the weight of firewood

Her right hand does not close

a box of matches

No axe handle balances

on my son’s right shoulder

No gleaming axe-head

laughs away the sun’s darts

behind the boy’s back

None of Father’s brothers walks

behind us, to get down on a knee

to braid some blades of grass.

For #Jadudi

By Karani Kelvin.

Never thought it would be like this: 
Me lying prostrate on a foreign table 
Drugged to sleep, the well meaning
Bespectacled fellow digging my brain
With shining silver scalpels, like a
Chinese carefully having his meal.

I also want to be held

By Karani Kelvin.

Yes,
I also want to be held 
as spasms of mixed
emotions flow through me 
I want to talk
and be listened to
as I rave about my boss,
work, how the day was,
about life, about you
Its true
I also want to cry
Though no tears
may flow
So,
hold me
and for a moment
let me be you! 

Karani Kelvin sells insurance and writes poetry on the side. Follow him on Twitter and Facebook .

Mother, Come Back for Me

By Abraham O'Obunga.

Mother, Father Francis always told us and he still tells us in church that people do not die. That it is the body which dies and the spirit lives. But how can this be true? Your spirit should be watching over me, Mother. Since the day I was told you went to a sleep that people never wake up from, I have seen more than enough. And I don't consider continuing living in this world. I want to come over to where you are Mother. May be the place is better than here. What Mama Jacky and her daughter are doing to me is no good at all Mother. The two have made tears draw permanent lines on my cheeks. She makes me wash their clothes, wash the house. In fact, I do everything while they sit and mock me and call me names. Every day, they ensure I cry and frown the whole day even when I try to put on a smile. Dad left for the city and rarely comes back home. And whenever he comes home, Mama Jacky treats me well. But what difference does it make? In fact, she forces me to pretend they are so good to me. If I fail to do so, immediately Dad leaves, am beaten to plump. Mother, why did you leave me behind?

Bring her home son

By Kaumah Francis.

Bring her home son
The lady who has won the heart of Onyango, my son
Bring her home son
Let not the rumour of her beauty clog my aged ears
Bring her home son
Let me set my eyes on her while I still live
Bring her home son
The mother to my grandchildren
The daughter to my in-laws
Let me spend the last of my wealth for her dowry
Let her presence in my home, remind me of Raila the unbeaten bull
Let the joy she bring to this home, remind me of Nyong'o ebullient ram
Let the first of her son in my home, remind me of Oneko the potent he-goat

God willing

By Karani Kelvin.

My vest is soaked, the pillow drenched
Silence stands still outside, cowering
Under its own shadow. The winds are stuck
The breeze frozen. It should rain soon
God willing.

Wrong Turn

By Abraham O'Obunga.

When you were still in high school, your teachers could tell you to work hard so that you go to University. What they narrated as their experiences in campus were motivating. They told you that students only attend classes when they feel like.