To be Kenyan, is to smell the scent of the dust that’s jumping up,
to meet the rain, that’s coming.
To be Kenyan, is to celebrate the clouds,
knowing behind them, the sun is rising,
and, with their marriage comes the promise of milk, of honey.
Because, to be Kenyan, is not to survive.
To be Kenyan, is to surprise.
I’ll be honest, Art Cafe is not exactly, my cup of tea,
And I could never figure out, how so many cars wore red and white stickers…
Why market for free?
I guess I kind of scoffed at the security checks…
until militants attacked a playground.
Yes, we were shot.
Yes. We are wounded.
NO. We are not falling.
We can’t let on radical group, force a xenophobic dawning.
We built the bullet glass barricades which held their for for several days!
If we start hating all outsiders, then they win, that regressive change.
Do not think that blind hate is not blind.
We must seek to define, what they try to divide.
To be Kenyan, is to see beauty in curves, which frame the colours around,
msemo za leso.
To be Kenyan, is to mourn out loud, to cry in ululations
as exclamation that the ones we lay to rest, have found the afterlife.
Because, to be Kenyan is not to survive,
To be Kenyan, is not to hide!
To be Kenyan is to be Pride.
Time makes its’ changes to faces, through phases, past places
within which all wounds try to be healed.
we used to know death is coming, when an owl is heard.
Now we read abuses in three languages, from Muhamed Kamau’s twitter bird.
We scream, hushed insults, at a government, that should have known,
an attack was pending!
But what we’re forgetting, is that it always was.
These cowards’ scare tactic is to keep on threatening.
What we can’t let them threaten, is our Unity,
Trust me, I get it.
It’s difficult to define identity when your mixed
But that’s just it, our diversity is who We are!
And I know, we’re not quite arm in arm.
Nobody wants to be surprised by harm.
Racial and ethnic profiling is in our blood.
But we can’t let them take our hospitality!
In some places, our people were met with One Book, One God and spices.
In some place, our people were met with One Book, One God and riffles
All with slavery up their sleeves, perceived a human of a different breed,
with currencies of cowers beads, which used to glitter, like litter
We, are rich, beyond riches!
To be Kenyan is to smile with every part of your being,
Forgetting the fact that your back is aching.
When your Kenyan, every tree has meaning.
Terere, Mchicha, fall like manna dropped by Gods winged messengers.
The coconut, the mango trees model our generosity.
The kasava, the guava, our children’s dreams,
tell tales of plenty, and harmony.
Because to be Kenyan, is not to survive!
To be Kenyan, is not just to live and abide!
To be Kenyan,
is to give something small, not to bribe.
To be Kenyan, is not to swallow lies!
To be Kenyan is to see the honey, through the hive!
To love, and give thanks for life!
To see fish, and DIVE!
To be Kenyan, is to Thrive!