You stand above the mantle Baba,

And any description of you

Can not evade the word smart.

Each Guka and Cucu has placed you there,

You were very handsome Baba.

Even those of us who never met you ,

Remember you.

We have evidence.

There is evidence,

in a time when photographs and uniforms were privilege.

Baba, I see pride in your eyes,

I see surity, that you saw

What you were doing was right.

And I hear stories, of how

You went too soon.

But that’s all we discuss of it.
I’ve read the history books Baba,

The ones that say that the men who wore uniforms like yours were bad Baba.

They say they took the side of the oppressors.

They call them home guard.

I heard whispers of depression once,

And wondered how could you not be.

When you discovered that progress and literacy would come by any means possible,

That your side, brought a tide of atrocities,

When you caught wind of butchered babies.

Of bottles or human chains…

If you heard screams.

You may already know Baba,

Myto looked after the family.

Watoto wote wali soma,

Maybe that’s why I write to you in English.

She is still here, we give thanks,

And she still remembers how handsome you were.

She remembers you with a full smile, and she gave us all her strong teeth.

You stand above the mantle, Baba,

and any description of you can not evade the word smart.

Each Guka and Cucu has placed you there.

You were very handsom Baba,

Even those of us who never met you,

Remember you.

3 responses to “Baba”

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