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Jul 2015 · 1.6k
I'm only human{poem}
Nigel Obiya Jul 2015
I am a battlefield...
Between love and dislike, not hate
Between a handshake and a fist fight, when love is late...
To the party
When it is being tardy
Between taste and distaste
Slouchiness and haste
Ignorance and be a thought conoisseur
To get my mind out of the gutter...or to leave it with the trash for sure
A battlefield I am...between 'cheeky boy' and 'serious man'
Seriously...I am
A battlefield
Between 'stand and fight' and 'kneel and yield'
Commit to the field
To feel, or not to feel
Tears of joy, or smile in pain
To shiver, cold...or dance in rain
This battlefield
Between conflict and resolve
Status quo and evolution
Antagonism and conflict resolution
I am human
Problem solved.
To human is to me.
Jul 2015 · 524
Break {poem}
Nigel Obiya Jul 2015
If you know that she will surely break your heart
Break it off
Do not just take a break, break ranks
Break it off
For she will surely tear you apart
Break it off
Maybe one last time
For that 'thanks' and 'goodbye'
She can get it, take it off
But seriously
If you feel like it isn't working, feel that heartbreak lurking...
Around the corner
You can feel it
See it
Smell it
Taste it
Hear it...
Your ears... they are perking
When you can sense it, the universe sending you a message
No one will blame you if you send her packing
For you were both aware that you wouldn't be there for long
Flash parking
This morning, I needed to write something
So, here's some advice for you, from me... for free
Ladies, as you read this
Feel free to replace 'she' with 'he'.
Food for thought.
May 2015 · 1.3k
Nigel Obiya May 2015
I see a country
Where the art of ******* reigns supreme, I see an ethical ship that's sinking
But I'm too focused on my future to worry about these stagnant 'leaders' and their backward way of thinking
I see a nation that is in a race, that could be sprinting, instead what we're doing is limping
They sell us out to the highest bidder, I see what they are's pimping
And they claim it's illegal...
I see a monkey..
Swinging from tree to tree
That monkey being a representation of you and me
Swinging off and grabbing at branches
In search of that ever illusive 'opportunity'
I see pimping
I see a society encouraged to operate in unity
But, while we confer
I see our '****' exercise that 'divide and conquer'
They say, what doesn't **** you makes you stronger
I concur, that we are
But I ask, for how much longer?
I see a leadership that chooses to see whatever it wants to see
One that is supposed to mirror me, but in it, there is no reflection of mine I happen to see
I see a leader that seems to want to do right by us
Surrounded by leutenants that seem to be encouraging him to drive right by us
And not see
I see a lot of cracks in the way they are running this state and it's obvious
I pray that I may be forgiven for stating the obvious.
'Macho hayana pazia' is a Swahili phrase roughly translating to, the eyes cannot be limited from seeing.
May 2015 · 465
Nigel Obiya May 2015
I sunk a little...
The water I involuntarily drank...
A lot
The liquor I voluntarily drank...
A lot
The place I was in...dark
A lot
Almost fell out of the race I was in, I mean 'the race I am in'
Well, since then that mind set has been replaced
With 'I can win'
I should apologize to all my readers...if they are reading this piece right now
But I have no guilt
For a foundation was unexpectedly built
For a structured mentality, I've built peace right now
And getting stronger, weak no longer
I increase right now.
Nigel Obiya May 2013
I have an issue
One that weighs heavily upon my heart
One that, if left unchecked, threatens to tear our social moral fiber apart
An issue I will express in English, with some help from my old friend Swahili
Hii imenisumbua akili, kwa hivyo kuiongelea ni kitu tunastahili
Hii story ya immorality tunaichukulia so so light
Dem akiji'expose kidogo mbele ya kamera haina mseo, tunampandisha cheo kwa society, all of a sudden ye ni socialite
The new cool, eti ‘good girl gone bad’
Hiyo njaro siyo polite

We have a lot more to live for than that which we seem to be aware of
It’s not always about a good time, or lack thereof
Our reputation as a culture I believe is something we badly need to take care of
Siyo game
Siyo Jokes
Si eti mambo na fame

It shouldn’t just be about who drinks, who smokes, who vomits and who chokes
Hiyo lifestyle siyo dope
Na siyo right

Six hundred and seventy something ways to die… choose one
I refuse to go… speeding down a highway, drunk out of my mind, on another booz run
However, I may not exactly be the right person to point out how messed up you are
On a scale of one to ten?
I’m probably as guilty as you are
English... I speak it, I write it
Swahili... I'm proud of my heritage and culture, this language represents that and allows me to express my thoughts
Sheng'... It's slang, every culture has one, I can't help but speak and write it

Finally... I just did what I usually do, in more languages than one.
Nigel Obiya May 2013
‘The world around me
All this random stuff getting hurled around me
People getting burned around me
Life seems pretty hard… around me
I’m the observer, that fly on the wall
The observer, still on the wall watching everything around me crumble
Watching everyone fall
The one that’s unnoticeable, like the extra in a movie
A constant extra though, immovable… as much as these events really move me
I watch and wait…
And wait for what?
A change, I think
I think I’ll change…
And do something about it
But will it really make a difference?
My Input that is
Or, will it make no difference?
Would everything remain the same, with or without it?
I still sit still on the wall, if flies can do that, ‘sit’ on a wall
Considering moving over to the windowsill and watching this downfall
Of society, of the world around me
Financial downfall as well as social, not to mention moral
On second thought, maybe I’ll just hang back... and do nothing at all
For if I have learned anything from our leaders, it is that
Any input is…

Not to mention conditional
For to do anything about this without any profit or benefit in sight…
Well, that would just be plain impractical.’
May 2013 · 849
Unable to 'good'
Nigel Obiya May 2013
I stand aside sometimes
And await my punishment
Await my flogging
The consequences of my actions
I know I've been bad
I've lied to myself so, I have been had... by me
But that false reality, for a second, filled me with so much satisfaction
I stand aside, stand out of my own way... so I can see
The ability to be in denial to myself is one that I lack, that character is hardly me
And so, I stand aside sometimes, turn my gaze inward, and look inside at times
Correct my wrongs
The rhythm somehow kind of went off key
Re-write these songs
These bad ideas come in crowds... in throngs
These crazy things that we conjure up
That flow freely
**** this tap
Will never stop giving
When will it dry up?
My friends are so wrong, but that's my problem. Hahaha....
Nigel Obiya May 2013
The sun burned through his skin, the saltiness of the sea almost acting as seasoning on his flesh, he could make out the birds circling overhead as his vision cleared. They were seagulls, not vultures. Still, they had a menacing look about them. He sat up and looked around the little boat, everyone was asleep, Michael wasn't sure whether this was due to exhaustion or whether they were trying to conserve their energy. One thing was for sure, that fireball in the sky was draining them of everything liquid in their systems. He stared at the sea and, for a moment, considered drinking the salt water, weighing this option against the raspy dryness that he was feeling at the back of his throat. The salt water could wait.
He stood up, and the sharp pain in his chest reminded him of the arrow he’d been struck with, it was gone now, but the pain still remained. The guys must have found a way to dislodge it, brilliant lot. There was ocean everywhere, no land in sight, no hope. For a moment Michael wished it was nighttime so he wouldn't be able to see far enough to realize that he had no hope of finding land anytime soon, and also that fireball wouldn't be tormenting them so. He stepped forward then caught his breath as something moved in the water.
A shadow almost the size of the boat swam under it. Michael watched as it glided, gracefully through the water. He had no idea what he was looking at, only that it was huge. A shark maybe? King fish? Both sounded dangerous, and both sounded like food. He was delusional, but hunger tended to do that to people. The food swam a few meters away, teasing him, and then circled back. He swallowed dry saliva.
‘What are you doing? You should be lying down, save your strength Mike.’ Modi spoke from behind him.
So that’s what they were doing, saving their strength. Food passed under the boat again and appeared on the other side.
‘Shhh… food.’ Michel whispered, pointing. As if he would startle a fish that was bigger than he was if he spoke too loudly.
Modi came closer. A shark fin broke the surface of the water and dipped again. They turned to each other and both had a mini-heart attack.
‘We should turn and head back to the island man, I’d sooner face those savages again than this killer of an ocean.’ Modi was saying, fear written all over his face. He grabbed his rifle and aimed at the water, but Michael stopped him.
‘Save your ammo bruh, we might need it. And anyway, we’re in a boat, it can’t reach us. Stop freaking…’ but before he could finish his sentence the shark had bumped into the canoe, tilting it slightly, ‘…GIMME THAT!’ he grabbed the gun from his friend and frantically pumped four shots in the direction of the fish, which swam hurriedly away, unhurt. Michael fell back into the boat, breathing heavily. He was a mess, the smell of the caked blood and that of the sea water finally catching up to his nasal senses, he threw up.
‘Bruh, I don’t think that’s wise… you need to keep that food in your body, not the opposite.’ Hamisi was saying. They were all up now, the gunshots playing the part of an alarm clock. Time to wake up and face an awful reality.
‘Shoulda’ just let me sleep.’ Juma said.
Mentally, they all agreed with him.
Keep your eye on this space...
Apr 2013 · 1.1k
Blessed day...
Nigel Obiya Apr 2013
I woke up and looked around
Waited for the sun to come up fully
Waited for the morning to blossom
If all the positive energy I have been harnessing pays off, then truly...
This day has got to turn out to be just as awesome
Just that nice
Where contentment with anything and everything around me is key
No need to try to be that which I'm not
Today, just being 'me' would suffice
It's a Saturday... and oh what a glorious one it is
Let it continue to be so... please
Let me not fret about that problem that I so willingly forgot
Let me jump up at some point and do that happy dance that I foresaw
The joy of living life to the fullest today is a luxury I cannot afford to forgo
I feel truly blessed
I feel like  the Almighty is planning to answer all my prayers with yeses
I hold the key to all these desired successes
Like I'm standing at the door... and I pick up a tiny rock
They have to open this time... come on, I've got quite an interesting knock
I'm the one they've been missing
And didn't even know it yet
I tell them "receive me"... and they will do so with handshakes, hands squeezing
Clap for my 'show and tell' project, when I haven't even shown it yet
I feel like I should let loose, maybe even spend this day shirtless
Allow Jah to bless
Worry not, fret less
It feels like everything's going to turn out okay
In a nutshell, I have such high hopes for this day.
Positive energy is all we need, but we tend to forget this sometimes... that's why we need to re-motivate ourselves from time to time...
Nigel Obiya Apr 2013
Continued from part 1...

There was a thud as someone behind him hit the ground… probably the recipient of the bullet.  His chest hurt, everything from his neck down was on fire. Michael tried to get up, and gave up. He slumped face first into the shallow water, taking a mouthful of sand in the process.
So this is how I was meant to go? Was his last thought before everything went dark.
The commotion brought him back, the smell of battle and violence, blood and guns, arrows flew past… rifles went off. He decided to stay down for a moment, until he could maneuver how he was going to get up without being hit. Tilting his head, he looked back up the beach, they were more than he remembered… and seemed to be spilling in from the dense forest. And then he turned and saw his comrades. Five brave souls, an arrow whizzed past his head and struck! Four brave souls. Mark fell off the canoe and splashed into the water.
Hamisi and Lewis were yelling at him to get into the boat, he tried to get up but his arms failed him. The arrow had done more than enough damage, He was bleeding out fast. The pain was excruciating, but he needed to get into that boat… or he was definitely going to die on that beach… with these savages. No can do. Michael made one last determined effort and pushed himself off the ground, his broken ribs grazed against one another under his chest… the arrow wasn’t helping. But he was on his feet and dragging himself to the boat.
Lying on the floor and peeking out the front of the boat, Juma and Modi, the two coast guard officers were shooting down bow and arrow wielding savages  one after another. Michael got to the boat and managed to catch a glimpse of a head hunter as a bullet struck him clean on the forehead. A head shot! He caught the irony. The ragged fellow in a filthy and tattered brown shirt and blue jeans that were equally as tattered, was ****** of the ground, legs in the air… arms flailing and then landed ******* his back. His right leg flinched once, and then he didn’t move. Juma took a moment to admire his marksmanship with a slight smile. Then he was firing again.
‘They’re too many! We need to go now!’ Hamisi was shouting as he grabbed one of the oars and began to row wildly, Lewis lunged at the other one and followed suit.  An arrow struck the floor of the canoe between them. They rowed harder.
As they pulled away from the shoreline Modi and Juma began to laugh, slowly at first, then it got more intense, the other two joined in and in a few seconds all four were in hysterics in that little boat. It was more of a nervous celebratory laugh than anything else. Michael attempted to join in but his ribs shot waves of pain throughout his nervous system.
He blacked out again…
The saga continues...
Nigel Obiya Apr 2013
PLANET NAIROBI (When the sun goes down)
They were on the verge of losing this battle… it was only a matter of time, and he knew that. Through the window, he saw them advance, with a fierce swiftness that would have put anyone opposed to them at unease. Trembling uncontrollably, he reached for his weapon and held it firmly, ready to martyr himself for his family’s honour and legacy if need be. For they were not, and never would be known as a family of cowards, they were royalty... and he would rather go down fighting than cowering, that was the bottom line. But he knew that his sword, as well forged as it was, would be no match for Rath and his five hundred man strong battalion. So, biting his lower lip he waited for the pounding footsteps to reach the top of the stairs where he stood, the one solitary guardian to the throne. Martyrdom was his destiny.
“Let he that stands between Rath and the throne fall like the city walls!” Rath’s dominant voice bellowed as it got closer, too close for comfort.
He braced himself.
Suddenly, the doors burst open. And Nur... Prince Nur, finally got to come face to face with the scourge that had terrorised the lands of the sea for so long. A man of whom he had heard about from stories as a child growing up. A man that had haunted his dreams for as long as he could remember. Nur realised that he had always been afraid of Rath, long before this moment, how was he supposed to fight this man when he was clearly at a disadvantage? For it was common knowledge that to go into battle afraid, was to go into battle prepared to lose.
Rath was a gigantic figure, and exuded the air of one who was accustomed to crushing his opponents and hadn’t experienced defeat in a while... if not ever. This man stood at almost eight feet tall, with rock hard muscles that seemed to pile on top of more muscle, threatening to tear through his dark skin. His long locks of unkempt hair fell over a face that could only be described as menacing. He had a permanent scowl that was complimented by his black, soulless eyes. And as they stared each other down, Nur couldn’t ignore the presence of sheer evil he saw in those eyes, a shiver of dread ran down his spine. He raised his blade.
“A child?” Rath barked, “A petulant child? Is that what this Kingdom’s defences have come down to? An infant?” He waved a dismissive hand at Nur.
“A prince!” Nur responded defiantly, raising his blade even higher and more confidently. This man may have been the epitome of terror, but Nur would be ****** if he was going to be talked down to in this manner, this was his palace.
“A prince huh? Prince Nur I presume? Your father was a brave man, I respected him. Even if I met his acquaintance only for a couple of minutes, before I slaughtered him. But I do respect a king that fights alongside his men, as opposed to other cowards I’ve had the pleasure of killing that had barricaded themselves in their chambers and let others fight their battles for them. King Thur was a rare breed... but a dead one all the same.” He laughed remorselessly as he said this. “And soon you will get to join your warrior father foolish one.”
Nur lost all sense of fear. Infuriated, his nostrils flared as he swung the blade with all the ferocity he could muster, slicing deep into Rath’s right forearm. Time slowed to syrup as he saw his adversary’s blood stain the sword, but realising that it wasn’t a fatal strike, he turned around swiftly, switching his stance just in time to see Rath’s massive blade come down on his head. Then there was a deathly silence.
The afterlife was nothing like he had pictured. It smelt of... he couldn’t quite place that peculiar smell. It wasn’t pleasant, but neither was it unpleasant, just unfamiliar. Then he turned around and saw her. He deduced that she was probably the source of the smell. He noticed that smoke came out of her nostrils and mouth every few seconds after lifting a sticklike object to her lips. Nur mused at how wrong the high priest in their kingdom had been when he spoke about the place in the sun... the afterlife. It wasn’t anything like he had described.
But wait a minute! He realised that the sun was still above him, in the sky. He could see it. He could feel it on his skin. So WHERE WAS HE? He felt dizzy, unable to comprehend. Only a minute ago he was in the royal palace, facing certain death. And now he was... he didn’t know where he was, or even what he was. Was he dead? Transcended? Was this just his soul? If so, then how come he still had his senses? All these questions raced through his mind at the same time. He turned toward the lady, who seemed unaware of his presence. She was tall and very light skinned compared to him and her hair was tied in ponytail at the back of her head. He couldn’t make sense of her attire though, she seemed to wear a lot of clothing, garment over garment that covered her arms and legs. She was also extremely beautiful and had a slim womanly body most warriors would **** for, he noted, and felt himself flush. He tried to see what she was squinting so intently at and concluded that she was just staring into space as she drew, he realised now, on the tiny stick and blew out more smoke. That was when he noticed how high up they were, this palace stood almost five times as high as theirs. It was overwhelming to say the least.  He got up and walked over to her, deciding to leave his blade behind so as not to come off as a threat.
“Greetings?” He said politely. She jumped as if she had just seen a ghost, dropping the stick she was holding. He had clearly startled her, so he took a step back lifting his hands in the air to signify that he meant her no harm. She breathed rapidly and began to speak just as rapidly in a foreign tongue. Nur couldn’t understand what she was saying, but the hostility in her tone and her demeanour was hard to miss. He took another step back, ready to defend himself from an attack if need be. He had heard tales of an island with warrior women who could match, and beat, even the strongest male adversary in combat. He decided to tread cautiously.

Nasim Naikuni was beyond peeved. Who was this ******?  He had scared her half to death and almost made her fall off the roof, not to mention burn her favourite grey, three thousand shilling trouser suite when she dropped the cigarette. And what annoyed her even more was that he didn’t seem to register how ******* she was. He just stood there with a blank expression on his face, like a schoolboy waiting for his mistake to be explained to him. Nasim couldn’t stand slow people, they got under her skin. She was yelling at the top of her lungs, which was taxing to say the least, seeing as she had been smoking just seconds ago.
“Are you slow?” She shouted, tapping at her temple repeatedly. “What makes you think you can sneak up on me like that you fool? You almost killed me. Do you realise that?” Then she stopped and studied him, out of breath. She noticed that he seemed unable to understand English and so she switched to Swahili, “Nini mbaya na wewe?” What’s wrong with you? Still there was no response.
She gave him a once over. He dressed strangely. His large, golden brown pants that fluttered in the wind seemed to have been made from an expensive material, though it was like no material she’d laid eyes on before. It bordered somewhere between silk and suede. His shirt was also made of a similar material, but leather brown in colour, matching his leather boots that were laced and reached just under the knee. He stood an inch or two shorter than she did, but she guessed that was probably because she was in heels. He had long hair that seemed to fall halfway down his back in one long braid. He looked almost exotic as he tried to communicate, but she couldn’t place the language or his ethnicity, for his skin-tone was chocolate brown but his hair looked almost like an Asian’s, dark and straight. He spoke in a tongue she had never heard before. There was also something really classy about this boy, whom she guessed to be around eighteen years of age or so. It was like looking at a darker, more pampered version of Sinbad the sailor.
Nasim relaxed a little and decided to give the fellow a chance to introduce himself, in whatever way he intended to do so. He seemed to pick up on this and started explaining something to her, making a couple of gestures, and at some point she thought she saw him mimic a fight, and then  point to the sky. Nasim still didn’t know what he was talking about, but felt a semblance of communication begin to take form. He directed her attention to another part of the roof, probably where he had approached her from. And she saw the blade! With catlike agility she swung her purse at him, the blow caught him square on the jaw with a thud! The bottle of perfume she religiously carried around in it serving a different purpose on this day. He hadn’t seen it coming and so had no chance of stopping it. He staggered backwards as she made a run for it toward the staircase but felt a hand grab her ankle causing her to tumble onto the hot cement floor. At that moment her heart sank, for she knew that she was done for.

Nur was perplexed, he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve the assault. The lady had seemed to be calming down, but all of a sudden she had lunged at him with a weapon he had first assumed to be a bag. Though, she didn’t strike with the strength that a warrior would have, and also had made an attempt to flee. This told him two things. One, she wasn’t accustomed to combat... and two, she had attacked more out of fear than strife. Which meant that she posed no immediate threat to him. Also, she was the only person he had met so far and his only hope of figuring out where he was. He couldn’t afford to lose her, not just yet, so he decided to try something he was ashamed he hadn’t thought of sooner. Nur spoke into her head.
‘I mean you no harm.’  He said, and waited. No response. He tried again, concentrating harder this time. ‘Can you hear me? I mean you no harm’
‘LET ME GOOO!’  Her thoughts screamed.
He could understand her, they had made a connection. Progress...

One year later. Nasim...
“Good afternoon people? You’re hangin’ out with me Nasim Naikuni on your favourite show Voices, where you can throw any question you have regarding life... and living it, at me and the voices in my head will answer them for you... yeah, you heard right, the voices in my head. I’ll be takin’ your calls for the next hour. Let’s begin shall we?” Nasim spoke into the microphone just before a voice-over added...
“NASIM NAIKUNI, THE ONLY RADIO PRESENTER THAT’S LITERALLY GONE BONKERS!” And then was followed by some rock music. ‘So what?... I’m still a rock star... ’ Pink’s lyrics belted out as Nasim removed her headphones to take a breather before she talked to her first caller. A breather... and also to have a bit of a chat with the voice in her head. She walked out of the studio into a corridor where she was out of sight, and concentrated, her eyes crinkling from the effort.
‘Hey, are you there?’
‘Uh huh.’ The prince replied.
‘Okay, we’re on in roughly three minutes. Make me look good babes’
‘Don’t I always?’
‘True dat. What are you doing?’
‘It’s one in the afternoon... ’
‘This is not my planet, therefore I’m not obliged to follow its rules. I can have a one o’clock breakfast if I want to.’
‘Brunch, what your having would be brunch. Breakfast... aaand lunch?’
‘You see? You get all high and mighty on me about this and you even have a name for it? If it is so wrong to have breakfast at this time, then why would your people give the meal a name? I’m just saying.’ Nur said mockingly.
‘I give up’ She replied with a sigh.
‘Nas... Nas?’
She walked back into the studio.
“Caller... you’re on air. Shoot.” Nasim said softly, leaning into the microphone.
“Hey Nasim, lovely job you’re doing by the way.”
“Why thank you dear, but I don’t deserve all the credit you know?”
“Yeah I know... you and the voices in your head... ha-ha! Anyway my name is George, and I’m kinda’ in a predicament at the moment. You see, I have a wife and a family... two kids, but I kinda’ got into this relationship outta’... obligation as opposed to real love...”
“Yes. I met my wife five years ago in uni’ and we dated. But looking back, I only got into the relationship because I felt I’d led her on and she loved me soo much, I just couldn’t disappoint her. So I got stuck in a phony relationship, at least on my part. Next thing I know, we are pregnant and... It’s been we ever since.”
“So you want to what? Get out of your marriage?”
“I want to be with the person I truly love...”
“Hooo... **! Scoreboard! Now we have lift off. And how long have you known this person that you truly love George?” She said this with a tinge of amusement in her voice.
“Six years... and we’ve been going out for the past two.” He sounded ashamed.
‘He sounds ashamed.’ She heard Nur say observationally.
‘No kidding.’ She retorted.
(In the past year or so, Nasim and Nur had come to an understanding somewhat. After she had struck him with her purse and the little scuffle they’d had on the rooftop, and after convincing herself that she wasn’t going crazy... or that the cigarette she had been smoking wasn’t laced with marijuana or some other hallucinogen, she finally gave in and listened to the voice speaking to her in her thoughts.
‘Please, just give me a chance to explain. I need your help lady!’ He sounded desperate.
She felt sorry for him, but still suspected she could be going nuts.
He continued. ‘I don’t know where I am. My father is dead and I don’t know where I am or how I arrived here, and you’re the only one that can help me right now...’
Nasim, touched now, replied. “How am I supposed to do that? And how are you doing this telepathy thing? Are you really doing this?” She shook her head violently, like a wet dog trying to dry itself, “I’m very confused right now.”
He looked even more confused. ‘Talk to me in my head, I think it is the only way we can communicate with each other.’
She didn’t know how to.
‘It’s simple, concentrate.’ He said reassuringly.
She tried. Still nothing.
‘I could hear you a moment ago, I don’t understand. Let’s try this slowly, repeat after me... Nur.’ He told her.
She heard him, and was thinking what?
He repeated, ‘Nur.’
She tried thinking the word he’d asked her to repeat as hard as she could but he didn’t seem to be getting anything. She decided that the cigarette must have been laced with something. Here she was, on the roof top of her work building trying to master telepathy, with a stranger who just happened to own a sword. This had to be a dream, a nightmare.
‘I must be high.’
‘Yes! Yes! You’re high!’ She heard the excited reply.
‘You did it!’ Nur said happily, ‘you figured it out. And yes, I was also meaning to ask you about how high we are.’
She had done it. Nasim could hear him and answer back, she felt oddly proud of this accomplishment. Then she asked puzzled. ‘High? You get high?’
‘I am high.’ Came the naive reply.
‘Why are we so high up? The palaces on our island are half the size of yours, are you that many in your palace that you need to build it so tall?’
Then she understood. And laughed... ‘Who are you? And how did you get here?’
‘My name is Nur... Prince Nur... how I got here? That’s what I’m trying to find out.’ He was being honest.
And thus begun an adventurous relationship between the two. Nasim took him to her apartment that day, passing curious and disapproving looks all the way. The most difficult part being trying to explain to her boss why she was coming from the roof in the company of someone who dressed like a ******, as he put it. She made up something. And he gave her one of those I’ll accept your story just because... looks. Nasim found that hilarious. But she was glad she had asked Nur to leave the sword behind to be recovered later. That would have been a tad difficult to explain. They got to her apartment block and were met by more disapproving looks from a group of nosey old women, the type that love to mind everyone else’s business but their own, as they walked to the lift. And when they got into apartment F6 on the second floor, she introduced Nu
Planet Nairobi… wrote this a couple of months ago, it was turned down by one publisher and awaiting other publisher’s feedback. However, it’s been a minute so I decided to share it with my peoples… if you like my work, this one will get you going… it may have it’s flaws, but hey… I never said I’m perfect, I’m just a writer.
Nigel Obiya Apr 2013
He couldn’t run any further, his legs had given out. Breathing was proving to be a task, he gasped for air but couldn’t fill his lungs with it fast enough. It was over.
   Michael’s brother followed behind him, also exhausted.  They had been running for the most part of the night, people were not designed to have this much endurance. It was finished.
   ‘Michael…’ Lawrence called out from behind him, ‘Michael… we have to rest.’ He sounded as beat as he looked. This was quite an unpleasant crux they had gotten themselves into, and his brother was not going to like what he was going to say next.
   ‘Lawrence, we cannot afford to. They are still on our tail, we have to keep moving.’ He said.
   ‘But I can’t…’
   ‘You have to. Now let’s go!’ He cut his brother off firmly and struggled on. Lawrence had no choice but to keep up. A stumble, a limp and he regained his stamina, or what was left of it, to keep jogging.
   They could hear the primitive cries of the head hunters in the distance. Not close enough to be seen, but definitely close enough to be heard. This gave the two renewed strength, they quickened their pace. They were almost there. Just a few more paces and…
   Lawrence fell. Michael turned to see his brother writhing on the ground, blood spurting out of the spot where an arrow had lodged itself at the back of his neck. His eyes were wide open as he choked on his own blood, Michael felt a chill run down his spine despite the fact that there was a humidity in the air that made the shirt he had on stick to his sweaty back. He looked up, the beach seemed deserted, there was no one in sight. Yet someone had to have shot that arrow. They had gone quiet now, wherever they were, and he got the feeling he was being stalked like prey. He was.
   He took one last look at his brother and swallowed, or attempted to. The lump in his throat was too painful to swallow, he had been unable to voice anything… his shock, his anger, his pain. All his mind could comprehend was the sight of his sibling’s lifeless body on the sand before him. He shot off in a sprint.
   They were on his scent. He felt them behind him, still out of sight he was sure, though he didn't dare turn around. But they were definitely there. His bare feet disturbing the flat sandy surface as he got closer to the water… he was almost there.
   He felt his rib cage crack and then give way as the arrow broke through it from behind and punctured his left lung, shattering its way through the front and just peeking out of his chest. He felt himself collapse and hit the water. He could taste its saltiness, and then he could taste his own blood. The pounding footsteps got closer. This was it. It was finished.
   Then, just as he was about to give up he heard the first gunshot. Hope…
What say you? Shall I continue?
Apr 2013 · 738
Thinking over the brink...
Nigel Obiya Apr 2013
I have thoughts that can provoke
Thoughts that once expressed, which they usually are, I do not revoke
Thoughts that I jotted down, thoughts that I sang aloud… thoughts that I spoke
I have thoughts
That life provokes
I have them for they are a necessary part of who I am, like a bicycle rim… and spokes
Thoughts that dance around in my mind
Thoughts that remind…
Me of lessons forgotten
Lessons learned… but disappeared into the dust I left in my wake as I sped through life
I have these to keep me company
I have them to keep me warm
I have them and accept them, I don't want to doubt them or ask ‘why?’
Through rain… in a storm
These thoughts would keep me dry
They provide me the shelter that I need
So that I am not running about helter-skelter
I have said it before, they course through my veins
Therefore when I express them I do not just speak them, sing them, or write them down
I bleed
Like I am doing…
Right now.
My mission in life is to figure out how I do this... so far I only have an idea... and countless ideas...
Apr 2013 · 1.7k
The next step...
Nigel Obiya Apr 2013
A breath before my next step
Actually no
I'm just going to take it
I will not think twice… or worry about whether or not I’ll make it
I'm just going to take it

A calculation before the next leap
Not necessary… I'll just charge with the blind bravado of fighting bull, as opposed to the clueless stupidity of a sheep
And yes, I realize that the blind can be clueless… and the brave can be stupid
But jumping into life is just like jumping into love and either being realistically passionate about it… or believing in Cupid… one of the two is just stupid
Just to clarify, if you actually believe in a chubby flying baby with a bow and arrow… dude?... Stupid!

Anyway, a thought before my next move
Ain't nobody got time for that!… while you're still thinking about it they will shove you out of the way all the while yelling “MOVE!”
You have the ability inside you
Subconsciously, but you can still feel it… it’s quite distinct
Don't overthink it, make the move out of pure instinct

If you can effortlessly do it… the better for you
On the other hand
If you are able to put in more effort, less doubt… allow the faith you have in yourself to stand out
Fill you up with confidence, then understand… it would be better for you
To just stand up, take that step… leap over that obstacle… and outsmart them on the next move, friend... just do it.
Apr 2013 · 1.4k
Of humans and pheromones...
Nigel Obiya Apr 2013
Committing is hard
Committing adultery?... Not so much
Oh, you want to act like I just crossed a line?
...Uhhh... I don't think I did... not so much
Relationship’s scarred
But you know how good that forbidden pleasure is… to place your hands on that which you’ve been told ‘ Do not touch’
You know it is true
Oh… you do know that, I know you do
You've been there before… you probably didn't even mean to score
But somehow you did
And she ended up in your bed
Well, no need to get into detail… enough said
But wait, I just cannot stop there
This one is for the groom who, at the altar, vows as solemnly as he is able to swear
Never to betray his bride, but thinks... ‘well, depending on the level of hotness of the Au Pair’
Loyalty has a life span, and so does Trust
And what an enemy they have in this character called Lust
‘Tis  just but the truth I speaketh…  one that we see
Our mindsets should adjust drastically if we ever hope to be…
Of the possibility
That we might cheat…
For when I look around society at the moment, all I see…
Is a bunch of people with the potential to commit adultery
Oh! Oh!
You know it's true... 'Nobody knows where the nose goes when the doors are closed'... Oh! Oh!

*inspired by two lines from
'Quentin Briscoe'
Apr 2013 · 1.8k
No more Mr. Nice guy...
Nigel Obiya Apr 2013
I know… I know
You don't have to say it twice
I know… I know
I see it now… I realize
That I really need to quit being nice
To quit being good to everyone, because some of these people don't care about anyone…
But themselves
They would never make a move to help anyone, unless by making that move they would also be helping themselves
This realization of mine, is emphasized by the sharp pain caused by this blade that is lodged into the base of my spine
Still with a slight limp and a wince, I move forward
Stabbed in the back by a pathetic, selfish coward
Story of my life
Sorry, but my strife…
Isn't with them
It’s with me
For allowing it
That is how I came to this situation…
And I am now in it
So, I could either choose to be buried alive… which would leave me dead in the end
Or dig my way out against the falling dirt, blatant truth against all that is pretentious… wage war against all who pretend
I say to them, “If I can afford to call myself out on my own faults and speak to me that which is true…
I'll be ****** if from this day forward, I'm going to be lenient with you”

I'm done.
'nuff sed!
Nigel Obiya Apr 2013
To all those that were reading my last piece,'Split personality' I had to take it down sadly after it had trended to a hundred reads in 3 hrs. But I wrote quickly and used the word 'cohabit' without realizing what it implied... you throw that in with 'brotherly loyalty' and the whole piece just reads a lot gay... now, I'm not hating on gay people... I just don't swing that way, wouldn't want my poems to give off the wrong impression... all said and done... I have just had a good laugh at my own expense hahahahaha
*still laughing... Thanks for supporting my work though LOL!
Apr 2013 · 1.0k
Nigel Obiya Apr 2013
I used to be passionate about my music
So passionate
I fear I’m waning now
I’m still as good, still practice… and can still do it better than the average emcee
But I fear I’m waning now
The rush I would get when I stepped into the booth… or into a rap battle
I don’t feel it so much these days
I fear it is becoming mechanical… becoming just something I can do… and less something I itch to do
I fear I’m losing interest
‘I fear’ this because I cannot afford to lose interest
This is my life
How does one go on without his identity?
I lift my hands in the air and pray to He that is the supreme entity
I cannot be this good and not enjoy every second of it
I live, breathe… I am hip hop
I simply love it
But I fear I'm waning
Even though I'm still recording
Been at this for so long my heart is getting cold
The ***** is frosting
How much longer can I keep this up?
This is getting exhausting
I need a break… I need to break free
This gift is beginning to feel like a curse
The frustration might just break me
The progress, if any, is so slow
I’m afraid I might be hitting the wall… I just don't know no more.
This is not one of my favourite writing moments... but I had to write something...
Nigel Obiya Apr 2013
We are a dangerous lot
We play a dangerous game
We know this…. But keep at it all the same

We are wild, not tame
We roam this vast, wild, sometimes friendly… sometimes unfriendly… plain
This sun scorched wilderness, this rough terrain

We get to carry a burden, such a heavy load
To work our way up the food chain
Life is a ragged road

To stand up and face a predator
While still preying on vulnerable prey
This is how it is, the law of the jungle

This line doesn’t belong here right? Still... I should probably end it with something that rhymes, like ‘pray’

The law of the strong
The jaw that can snap a neck bone
The claw of the jungle

The dominant ones have their way… it’s quite clear
The lesser ones will cower in fear
And those that spectate watch from a distance, and do not interfere

Let nature take its course
I have said enough, I await your feedback, for  this poem was metaphorical and not literal… of course
And so, kindly, if you will... engage me, the author, in profound discourse.
Apr 2013 · 1.3k
Reigniting the flame...
Nigel Obiya Apr 2013
What am I… if I am not gentle?
What am I… if I am not meek?
What am I if I am not humble?
Jah’s word tells me to be these… it makes me stronger, not weak

How is it then…
That  I get over certain issues, put them behind me
Then like a typical human being, my **** mind reminds me how to make a mistake, so I go back to these issues and revisit them?
I am human
I err
I am human… just like ‘him’… just like  ‘her’
I lose inspiration, and then regain it and compose a piece… my poetic tattoo… my permanent scar
Well, I’m back now… again I return
Full of things to say… or write about
Tragic stories… scorching flames from a fiery soul… yes, today I burn
I let the flames engulf my whole being
I let the dancing mix of red and yellow around me be enough
For me… right now
The only answer to my soul being… this
And passion being the question
Pure bliss
A satisfactory sensation
I am…
My own fire starter
I could care less about making a good impression

What am I… if I am not gentle?
What am I… if I am not meek?
What am I if I am not humble?
Jah’s word tells me to be these… it makes me stronger, not weak.
Nigel Obiya Mar 2013
Uhuru Kenyatta... entertaining, eloquent... and we all know he smokes ****... did not vote for him, but I congratulate him and I'm excited about the idea of having him as my president for the next five years.

Cheers Uheezy...
Nigel Obiya Mar 2013
I urge that we make ourselves proud… of us
I urge that we go into and come out of these polls sober minded, responsible, uncorrupted, without ‘fight’ or ‘fuss’
I urge that a joyous feeling of an evolving nation moving forward be the only thing we can, in hindsight, say erupted… this upcoming Monday, the following Tuesday
I would like to state that a people gunning for peace in these coming days is the only topic I would like to be following in the news today
We should see what’s coming as the change of guard it is… and not as a dreaded doomsday
You may be black… I may be white, or vice versa… and that’s alright
We shouldn't even be asking ourselves “Who’s grey?”
I will vote with one heart for one country… my country
A country in which I’m confident can keep the peace, you see, we’re kind of good at this
I know this because we've had quite a bit of practice
I know this because deep down we all want to make peaceful transitions be the Kenyan way
I know, I hope… and whenever necessary, I pray
Happy voting.
Feb 2013 · 510
Crisis averted...
Nigel Obiya Feb 2013
I think of that one person out there… that could have been me
Overflowing with talent, but he let it go to his head
The person that made a wish, and later on wished that he hadn't…
Watch where your mind goes...
*in the first line I meant that 'I could easily have been that person' as opposed to the self righteous way it may read... I felt the need to clarify that...
Feb 2013 · 4.6k
The Kenyan 'tag'...
Nigel Obiya Feb 2013
We are a funny lot
As in, seriously… we delve into ‘funny’ a lot
Very rarely does a day go by
That I don’t come across something that cracks my funny bone…
Or as a Kenyan would put it ‘makes me just die!’
Body bag
The Kenyan
This specimen of human is always quick and capable of ridiculing anyone’s apparent "swag"
Everyone gets a turn here… so do not huff when you’re ‘it’
There must be a reason you joined this dissing game… this unique Kenyan version of ‘tag’
Just remember
The rules are simple, really
Keep it above the belt, unless upon exception...
They also clearly allow one to feign concession
Yes, these rules highly encourage strategic deception
Kind of like what our politicians do before the main election
But also if you paint a target on your back… you will get shot at...
By everyone… and I mean everyone
I haven’t seen anyone do that and elude the social media firing squad yet
Computers and phones in this case, acting as the internet's version of the bayonet
And watch closely if you’re ‘it’… for the inevitable, the friends that will stab you in the back
It’s bound to happen, as much as this may ****
The memes will come by the truck load… in what may seem like a self driven truck…
With a life of its own
Just ask Susan Mirfat
The most recently owned!
We’re a funny lot I tell you
Loose cannons almost
Our leaders’ shenanigans, our parents’ semantics and our own clownish antics…
Prove that despite…
How mature as a country we've become…
We’re still all just a bunch of children, inside.
Oh... how I love these clowns I call my brothers and sisters....

Follow this link to get a feel of what I'm talking about...
Nigel Obiya Feb 2013
Initially it was… “Oh no! Death!... Why now?”
Then it became… “Death… not you again? Not now.”
And now it’s more like… “Death… dude! It’s me again, take a bow!”
No one takes me seriously anymore
In the era of plagues I would wipe out whole towns and villages, it would make sense now that I should be able to take many more
But sadly this is not the case
Nobody takes the Grim Reaper seriously anymore
I find myself picking up crumbs left for me by doctors and surgeons, if only to save face
This pride that has been taken from me… even a suicide bomber or a mass murderer cannot help replace
I find myself, ironically, in a dark place
And it kills me to admit it
Medical breakthroughs, my biggest hindrance… this technology, I must beat it
These humans are getting cocky… even teasing me, again holding my pride at ransom
Taking unnecessary risks all in the name of thrill seeking, I see you Richard Branson!
I should have taken you while you were still a ******
To take you out would give me such joy… so much joy, a satisfaction level of which you cannot even imagine
But so far… you’re winning
You all seem to be
It’s different now from how it was in the beginning
The simplicity of your ways then made the job a lot simpler for me
Now you play this game, and cheat me at it… constantly
You cocky little *******
I hate you
Look at all of you smirking over there… toasting at me.
Ohhhh mein! He did it again! This Nigel Character! :D
Feb 2013 · 544
In the end...
Nigel Obiya Feb 2013
I’m unable to write a thing
I feel kind of exhausted, like I’m done with this life
But realize that I still need to fight… a thing
Still need to make music
Still need to write…
To compose these ones right… to sing
But I feel like something is out to get me… at every turn
Like life’s trying to sweat me
With every burn…
‘Keep hand further away from the heated pan’
A lesson I’d learn
I bring…
Myself to the realization that…
I’m at ‘peace’ in my heart
At war in my mind
And it is but a plain fact known to me
That it will come to pass
And then…
What will I find…
In the end?
*Just thinking out loud...
Feb 2013 · 478
Food for thought...
Nigel Obiya Feb 2013
Something does not become fact merely because it was written thousands of years ago, if I wrote ‘I am headed to Atlantis to get my gills cleaned.’… and someone found this 20,000 years later, it would be stupid for them to jump to the conclusion that ours was a time of mermen and submerged cities… I’m just saying, don’t take everything as gospel. #foodforthought
Sometimes when I see archaeologists get all excited about a new discovery that is supposedly thousands of years old... I wonder, what if there was that one guy that thought it would be a good idea to ***** with people in the future, and write some totally unrealistic nonsense... like 'the book that can't be read'?. I could certainly pull off  a similar stunt, It's just that I like to see the reactions of the people I prank... I'm not that patient.
Feb 2013 · 748
An honourable gamble...
Nigel Obiya Feb 2013
This is a gamble
Yes, I’m playing ‘words’
Life can turn out to be such a shamble
That makes the playing hard
Some have more excitement than others…
But we are still playing the same odds
We have been explained to the truth
But not necessarily in the same words
If you happened to realize that you had fulfilled your purpose, would you request an honourable death?
Or find a second calling?
Would you cash in your chips?
Or have another go at it?
Another go… again
All in?
Sometimes one needs to just take the leap
Thinking twice could just be an excuse to keep stalling
Taking the leap and ascending to a higher level, or thinking…
‘At least I tried… I am content with that fact, despite the fact that I’m falling’
Either way, one cannot have another ‘today’
Another ‘now’
Another ‘present’
Appreciate it today
Appreciate it now
Heard this in a movie once…
Now is a gift, that’s why they call it the present
These come in no order or rehearsed flair
I’m gambling… I’m playing ‘words’
With my thoughts most recent
Yes, I dare.
Feb 2013 · 1.2k
Valentine of mine...
Nigel Obiya Feb 2013
I read an ad recently
‘Get your Valentine’s day hampers while they last, order in advance lest you be disappointed’
But what I really read was…
'Get your Valentine’s day humpers while they last, order in advance lest you be disappointed’
Because I’m a clown like that
I make light of this day ‘Valentine’s’
The fourteenth day of the second month of every year
That makes everyone realize how attached or alone they are… really, I find that the most stupid fear...
Is the fear of not being paired up… yet
I say ‘yet’ because it’s going to happen sooner or later, more than once
Like it has happened before
But oh, you want to sulk and sob in your depressingly darkish room… behind the self made prison that is your closed door
Because you just want to wallow in self pity… because you're so low
Forever alone
Call me a *****
And a realistic one at that I like to think
But I find this entire obligation to have someone on this day quite unnecessary… which makes me kind of curious
As to who is really authentically ‘in’ love
And who is apparently “in love” for convenience reasons
These self made prisons
I joke through this day… with female friends, my true Valentines
No charades, no pretentious antics
Just funny nonsense with the coolest, realest fun chicks
To all those that have their better halves… well "power to you"
Way to go, we’re happy for you
You probably enjoy the most out of this day ‘Valentine’
I didn't mean to sound conceited… for we are all allowed to court
To be arrested by passion, maybe I’ll get past these ‘flings’ and also have my day in court…
Yeah, maybe someday I will have mine
Feb 2013 · 616
The Lord speaketh.
Nigel Obiya Feb 2013
I heard Him say…
“I do not favour anyone above everybody else, I favour everyone the same.”
And had to share it with you.
Nigel Obiya Feb 2013
Anything is possible...
Even the impossible
Note that I said ‘the impossible’
And not ‘the seemingly impossible’...
This reality to me has always seemed plausible
Even when I was cold and hard-hearted, when inside my chest there was an icicle
This kind of faith kept me balanced
Like riding a bicycle
Through sanity and mental imbalance
Through all those self-deceptive lies we call…
‘Necessary evils’
When separating the good grain from the bad, do we ever make an exception and say to ourselves… “It isn't fit for consumption, but I’ll keep this grain… for it has but one necessary weevil…”?
If it isn't good for me, it simply isn't good
And I have to distance myself from it
And it is possible for I say it is
It may have seemed impossible previously
For that was how I saw it as
Not anymore
I will ease over this hurdle
And look forward to many more
Yes, look forward to them
For there are no limits anymore.
Feb 2013 · 1.1k
You know I'm right... right?
Nigel Obiya Feb 2013
I banged the door against my ‘little’
And felt the pain through to my index…
I felt the pain surge through, felt it throb… felt it linger
Felt it ache
Felt my whole body quake, way past my pain threshold
**** this finger

I stubbed my little…
Against the leg of my coffee table, you know the one… that well varnished little devil
That stands just before the door
It felt like liquid fire
I looked down at my toe and asked it, “You mean to tell me that you didn’t bleed?... you LIAR!”
And then turned to the table and whispered, “You little *****.”

I don’t know how it happened, but...
You made me sob my heart out paper-cut
It isn't nice how you just up and slice
I’m a manly man, I declare… I boast
You can tell by my manly strut
But really, that ain’t cool… play nice, for pain is my least favourite vice
It’s the little cuts that hurt the most.
Hell: Definition... stubbing your toe on the railing as you bolt down the stairs, causing you to bump into someone holding a mug of scalding hot coffee, which of course spills all over you... and then you realize that the razor blade you were holding left you with the cleanest deep slice on your finger... and it hasn't began to bleed yet, but you can still tell it's deep... and you're too afraid to find out how deep it is... now that's some ****!
Nigel Obiya Feb 2013
Yo! Am I the only one who thinks Bonnie Parker(Bonnie and Clyde) wrote some ****** amazing pieces while she was locked up??? Brilliant...
Feb 2013 · 971
Two men, too different...
Nigel Obiya Feb 2013
This man stood in the dark* *(He stood in the light)
This man had no idea what to do with the light (He had made it through the night)
For so much time had gone by since dusk (He was free... a seed, ready to grow, that has shed its outer husk)
He had spent one too many hours in ‘fright’ (Not to be confused with being ‘about to flee’… he was ‘about to soar’, ready to take flight)
Too much time had gone by since he’d gotten lost in the night (And it all came naturally, everything just sort of… felt right)
He’d taken the same wrong path he swore he would avoid (He’d avoided a path that he knew so well, one that was… of all serenity, devoid)
That same mistake over and over again, he was frustrated… annoyed (Some would call it a ‘near miss’, he calls it a ‘near crash’… because he nearly crashed and missed, he was overjoyed)

**The previous man… a broken record, a repetitive mistake, an irritating stutter
Just for the record, the previous emotional clutter… seems much less appealing than the organized latter
And the obvious better option for me... for you
Is to work extra hard at being guy number two.
Jan 2013 · 815
Nigel Obiya Jan 2013
More loss...
Of life
Somebody somewhere has lost
A father, a mother, a brother, a sister, a husband… a wife
On this Saturday morning
Somebody is weeping… somebody is mourning
‘News just in’… it probably is a media frenzy…
By now
But somewhere out there
Some people do not know where they’re friends be
Right now
Eleven dead… eleven nameless people gone
Unless it’s your loss, then somebody has a name
This is that ‘it’s someone else’s problem’ game
The news you hear… but it doesn’t really ‘hit home’
Unless it really does ‘hit home’
To me… like to you, right now these people are unknown
But they are still people… they were living, breathing people
Now gone
On a Saturday morning
Many are beginning a sad day… mourning
We can lay blame on the ferry services… the lack of precaution
And trust me, they deserve that blame… they really do
But to pin point one particular person to blame it on?... Really?... Who?
Right now… today
Let’s just take a moment to pray
For the injured and the gone
And when I say …I’m glad it isn’t a school day
And most school-going children are at home
I know I’m not alone.
Life is unpredictable.;_title=Kenya-11-dead-in-Likoni-ferry-accident
Nigel Obiya Jan 2013
It’s scary I tell you, when I turn around and look…
To the days when I just couldn’t wait to read that book
I’d plan my day so that I'd have several hours of page-turning time… with no interruptions in between
Nowadays I find myself turning fewer pages, but lazily clicking away as I read off a computer screen
I’m afraid I will lose the reading culture I’d built... for this is not the same
I go through a few pages, then switch to an online pool game
It’s a habit I’m beginning to abhor
Something I never would have dared to do before
I would read the crap out of a book in a day… or two at most, before
Always hungry for a story, like a ****** with a craving looking to score
I was a book worm… now I just don’t know
What I am anymore
I grab a good paperback and dive into the story
An hour later my eyes feel heavy, I begin to feel a little weary
The Sandman’s close by and I am beginning to worry
‘Will I even get to finish this chapter?’
I begin to rush through the page in a hurry
But by now I’m reading shallow… and the story is so deep
Still, I need to know what happens to the protagonist next… before I fall into this deep sleep
I can feel it lurking around the corner
**** Sandman!...
Around the corner
Then I turn to my machine… that wretched thing
And see the window I left open on the screen
And decide to squeeze in…
A short story I had been reading earlier, before I ‘shut eye’
Knowing full well that if I force myself past chapter four my brain surely shall die
But, forty five minutes later… well, what do you know? The computer has done it again…
It has kept me awake and reading, way past chapter ten.
Remember when reading a book was... well... about reading A BOOK?
Nigel Obiya Jan 2013
Every piece I write
Is a piece of me…
Of the turmoil, the calm, the violence… or the peace in me
I wonder, when I am dead… how shall they remember me?
For I have a lot of content in my poetic diary
A lot…
Of content…
In my…
I have written my whole life down one would notice, if one paid attention
Every frustration, every smile, every frown… written down more out of self expression
Than to seek attention
Pieces and records of what I was feeling or thinking at particular times and dates... I could care less if they made a wrong impression
For I have a lot of content in my poetic diary
A lot…
Of content…
In my…
I’m past trying to get published
Pouring one’s soul into a piece, just for it to get rubbished?
That’s not for me… I have too much respect for my poetry
It may not be in print… but when I read something I wrote a year ago I see it right there, my personality… it’s right there, and I know it’s me
For I have a lot of content in my poetic diary
A lot…
Of content…
In my …
If you read through all my work
You read through me… I could even risk it being said that whoever has done so
Knows who I was, who I am… and maybe even who I will be
That person will know… does know… and that person knew me
For I have a lot of content in my poetic diary
A lot…
Of content…
In my…
And one thing that both the old and the new me
Agree on
Is that…
We are and probably always will be…
With all the content…
In our diary.
Jan 2013 · 957
Why I think we are weird...
Nigel Obiya Jan 2013
I think poets are aliens… from another planet
I mean, we must be
You have to be off your rocker to get it, to understand it…
I mean, is it just me…
That sees it?
The way we took grammar, complicated as they made it...
And blew the rules to the wind, we decided to ‘breeze’ it
We made up our own… and as a sensible man...
I can say, they don’t even need to make sense
Because they are what they are… poetic and intense
I really think we are not human though… I'm being serious about this
We go around seeing through a third eye
I know because I am about this
And we are crazy I tell you
We see the art in everything
We probably came up with the phrase ‘an about kiss’…
Or an 'almost kiss'… whatever
‘It’s either a kiss or it’s not, it’s as simple as that’...
The rest of society thinks… oh, but the poet would have none of that
We are weird I tell you
Us artistic types
We open our minds to anything and everything
We even befriend the mystic types
We would take it there… or allow our curiosity to take our minds anywhere
We would experiment to a point where we’re tripping out
We would… and you know it, just as long as it’s something to write about
This creativity thing is like a super power… **** it!
I rest my case… arrest me and take me back to my mother planet.
Nigel Obiya Jan 2013
The snowman to the scarecrow, “Hahahaha you’re just a stick figure…. and your hair’s straw.”
The scarecrow to the snowman, “Watch who you talk about whenever you open your mouth, for all the coldness in your words will still melt to the ground along with you as soon as the sun comes out.”
“You’re such a chump…” the snowman said… “…two words for your ancestry, tree stump.” the snowman said
“You’re fat… you have a carrot for a nose, and what’s up with that stupid green and red coloured hat?” said the scarecrow
Well played
“I work all year round… you’re here for a season, did you really think you could hold your ground against someone that is here for a reason?” the scarecrow added
The snowman cringed, but then had a comeback
“At least I don’t wear the same filthy clothes every day of the year… what? Are you trying to bring ‘brown’ back?”
Point for Snowman
“It’s better than being fat and going naked.” Scarecrow brought it back

Scarecrow is consistently winning right? I know… I know man!
If he made you a fan, stick around for an autograph… I will throw in mine too
For more on the war of words between these two
Watch this space for round two.
Yeah... don't ask why I wrote this or where it came from, I'm stumped too. **** voices in my head.
Jan 2013 · 1.3k
I just don't know...
Nigel Obiya Jan 2013
Sometimes I just don’t know…
What to say when she asks
Sometimes I just don’t know
She needs to quit giving me these tasks
Quit making my mind spin, trying to think of an answer
I wonder... if we switched places, would she be able to answer the same question she’d asked me if I had asked her?
The truth is
Sometimes I just don’t know
Why we are where we are
Why over-night I seemed to be distant… far
Why I don’t seem to see her like the moon, like a star
I still haven’t come up with an answer thus far
I’m not trying to be heartless, but there are too many things to ‘take care of’
To be distracted by infatuation… or lack thereof
I might have gone overboard right there
Yes, that was an over-****
But whenever she asks me if it is over… I’m thinking…
‘I just don’t know, I really don’t… but our friendship isn't over...
That moment when you know you should have an answer or an explanation... but you just don't have one. We've all been there...
Nigel Obiya Jan 2013
I saw these neighbourhoods
I grew up in these neighbourhoods
I saw these streets
I grew up in these streets
I lived passed them… sort of
I didn't end up in jail, a ******… or deceased
Still, whenever I walk through them today... I feel at home
A sense of belonging
A nostalgic longing…
To remain here forever
But realize that forever would be too long
I would be fed up by month number five
Getting high every day… getting into fist fights
That was no way to live a life
It was just about getting through the day…
Be alive
These things are very different from living
Because the devil that gives you certain heights… compliments them with issues
And he just keeps on giving
I see the junkies, a hardened lot
Taking their ‘cut’ from the public service vehicles plying their route
And woe be unto the tout that refuses to pay
For these scavengers get vicious, they scratch, punch… and loot
I call them scavengers because that’s what they seem like… true
But as I look into the crowd, their ‘gang’, I realize that I know one of them… actually two
They cross over to me; we bump fists… a way of greeting
We’re still ‘boys’, but if I were to describe them now as ‘wayward’?... Fitting
I cannot do that though
We may have taken different paths in life, but there was a time when we hang together
A time when we were young, running around these streets and I called this place home
Now, what sort of man would I be if I just upped and forgot where I came from?
*For the record, I never did that hard stuff... wasn't that dumb...
Jan 2013 · 1.1k
My brother.
Nigel Obiya Jan 2013
My brother and I fought
And I wasn’t at wrong
Or so I thought
Years ago this happened
And it’s been awkward for too long
It may not seem such a big deal
But it was resentment I’d feel
Whenever we attempted to get along
It wasn’t too long ago though
I was like eighteen or so
We had a fist fight as grown men
I realize now that I always thought
He was selfish, and that was why we always fought
But the truth is… I’ve been selfish too
Thinking I was holier than thou
I want my brother back
I want my brother back right now
I’ve been okay, I’ve been doing good
On a solo mission, but I misunderstood...
The meaning of life
It’s not about strife
After growing up together, we grew apart… how?
I want my brother back
I want my brother back right now
We both know he was wrong
To do what he did
But that was years ago
By now, both of us should have let it go
The funny thing is
He still has my back
He is always there when I need him
I used to think it was guilt
Now I realize it has more to do with the relationship we’d built
Growing up side by side
The days when for him I was always ready to ride
To stand up against anyone that tried… to hurt him
He was my brother, flesh and blood
My brother, my blood
As I write this I've grown a little now
So, I have to get my brother back
I have to get him back right now.
Sometimes we realize that it's not worth holding on to a grudge... no matter how justified we may feel about it. We've had our issues, but I can't pretend he wasn't my big brother for all those years.
Jan 2013 · 502
Nigel Obiya Jan 2013
Sometimes I look at you
And wonder, ‘Do you carry yourself this way when you're with your colleagues at work?’
If you ever read this you will know it’s you… and it’s the truth
And the truth ******* hurts
But honestly…
Sometimes I look at you and I think you’re ******* nuts.
Jan 2013 · 716
That's my Lord.
Nigel Obiya Jan 2013
Music to my ears
Napkin to my tears
Shoulder to my lean
Through an exhaustingly long swim… resting Island in between
He is...
Salvation from my sin
That’s my Lord

Courage to my fears
Wisdom among my peers
Keeps me focused, keen
Opened my eyes to all that I’ve seen
He is...
My backbone… He is my spleen
That’s my Lord

And so I cannot afford
To give up on Him
Lest he returns the favour
And gives up on me
And I need Him… my savior
I was always flattered though, by the fact that He needs me too
To fulfill my purpose… my part in His plan
I could be replaced, I know
But for some reason I keep getting other chances… He keeps forgiving me some more
It makes me feel special, like for an important role to play
I am wanted
I have to be careful though, not to cross the line…
And take him for granted
To lose a father, a friend and a guide
I simply cannot afford
So, no matter how many times I slip up
I will still pick myself up, dust myself off, look to the sky and say…
“I will stick with Him because He is my Lord.”
Nigel Obiya Jan 2013
Way to fleece…
A taxpayer
They’ve got us singing the blues
And we’re not down for all that jazz*… leave that to the Sax player
We remain mind boggled by these selfish ‘leaders’
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again… ‘Dude! Way to bleed us!’
We’re already scraping the floor for crumbs… are they trying to run our finances into the ground?
“You work for us you pompous ******-bags, it’s not the other way around...”
Midnight meetings in secretive silence
We preferred it when their nonsense made a sound
We’re ashamed and infuriated
But what makes it worse is that we’re not surprised
It’s like they strive to be truly hated… and yes, they've  gotten themselves despised
More and more by the day
As each day goes by
We would throw them all out if we could
And our actions would be understood
Unfortunately we can’t do this for they are skilled at defiance
Masters of political science
And at it they are that good
The campaigning politician...
Seducing us with deceit when he comes out on the street
To make his energetic speech
And then...
The elected Member of Parliament...
Only campaigns for his financial gain
Once he’s assured that for a whole term his position is permanent
That’s where they've slipped up, and I thought they were a smart lot
Schemious at least
Such a wrong move in an election year
Do they not fear… getting dropped by the voter?
Two hundred and twenty four MP’s… dead weight in deep water
And can’t swim
Should they have asked for my advice prior, I would have told them to simply cease and desist
“Do not dive in…”.
Jazz* -Kenyan slang for 'topic', can also be used to mean 'nonsense'.

Frustration does not even begin to describe what I'm feeling over this issue... copy/paste and follow this link for further clarification;_title=Kenya-MPs-award-themselves-hefty-gratuity
Jan 2013 · 596
Nigel Obiya Jan 2013
I have seen ‘life’… and ‘life’ has become me
I have seen death, well… close enough
And these experiences too have become me
A part of me
A part of who I am
A part of who I used to be
The past and the future collide… at the present
I have had times when I was scared
I have had times at which I stood up to the challenge when I was dared
I am not perfect… I’m just a man
A man destined and expected to always be able to take a stand
Even when he’s down, to stand tall… proud peasant
You need to understand…
Every other man’s shoes are difficult to walk a mile in
So respect my journey as I overcome all these obstacles and head for the ‘Promised Land’
With questions in my mind like…
If I am not ‘holy’…
Then what am I… ‘sin’?
Questions unanswered… questions asked
Responsibilities not asked for… responsibilities tasked
Some decisions are a risk… such a risk they are
But that is why the one that retained the Status quo… and he that took that risk
Today, are not at par.
Bits and pieces of what goes through my mind...
Nigel Obiya Jan 2013
I think of an end, and it will appear
I think there is no end… and it’s the beginning of my life each and every year
I choose where I am, by having chosen where I've been
A number of wise decisions… with a lot of nonsense in between
Epiphanies hit me and I see life in a split screen
Shared blunts with street urchins, with no idea where the spliff’s been
Arrested a couple of times… in holding cells I have been
Series of unfortunate events unfolding… in short spells?
I was reckless and immature… I was seventeen
But I stayed on, believed in the blessing…
From above and realized that between God and Satan… one of them must have been testing…
My resilience, my ability to learn from experience…
My brilliance?
I yearned to play in the big leagues with the main players
I could have sworn that I could see the future like Soothsayers
I was going beat them
Despite being riddled with inexperience
I tried once… tried twice, made a step
Tried the third time, another step
The fourth, a leap
And I’m still at it, hoping to reap…
From this artistic thing
These poems, this music… when I rap, when I sing
This is the breath of life to me… it’s more than just ‘a thing’.
You're not in any position to judge... just read...
Jan 2013 · 21.5k
Seductive Reaper...
Nigel Obiya Jan 2013
‘tis but a thing she does
The female assassin
They say that poison is her weapon… maybe on occasion
But that is a level she’s surpassing
You see, what they fail to understand is that she doesn't take lives for vengeance
‘tis but a profession
The beautiful, tantalizing female killer
Her male victim’s obsession
One minute she’s a runway model… with her devilishly sinful grin
A smile so engrossingly enticing… full, red lips that cut across her face playfully
Against her flawlessly peaceful skin
One word for that…’killer’
Forbidden pleasures… blissful sin
She’s taken out big names… maybe even one or two heads of state
To dinners she’s escorted these men… and later on left them in their deadest state
She walks through the front door, but when leaving she can scale windows
Agility is her forte… ‘Man killer’ she is
The black widow…
In a red dress
You may be reading this thinking you can never fall prey to her seductive tentacles
‘tis an argument I do not even wish to get into
I digress.
Sometimes I like to paint pictures with words... some playful, imaginative pieces.
Jan 2013 · 1.8k
Chin up
Nigel Obiya Jan 2013
A strange confidence… chin up
An inexplicable sense of self appreciation
Like I hover above the rest… a sense of elation
Like I have control over all
Even over that which I have no control over
A deceptive reality?
A confidence I needed…
So as to achieve that which I desire
And it shall come to pass… and I shall say ‘I succeeded.’
This one is here to stay… ahead I see no insecurity
Like nothing can touch me
Even though actually, things aren't perfect…
A lot has gotten out of hand, and that’s the strange part
Because I’m still self assured despite this
As I sit here and write this
The confusion, I’ll fight this
Chin up, chest out… tight fist
I haven’t had this much faith in myself in a while
Warrior standing over a lion with a spear
I’m okay... I know that I will be alright this year.
Nigel Obiya Jan 2013
And then I saw her
And she was beautiful
And all I kept telling myself was ‘Nigel, do be cool…’
But it was too much and left me a little bit awkward
Like the new kid in school
She spoke with such ease… like she had no idea how amazing she was
I highly suspect that this was because
She knew
And was just basking in the moment
And there I was, calm and collected… on the outside
Mushy and melted… on the inside
I find myself still thinking about her a day later
How can someone be so enchanting?
If she has a man… I hate him
And I hate her
The previous line is not possible though
Her whole aura catches you off guard like a sucker punch
An unexpected blow
I saw her…
And she was beautiful
And as I type this a day later
There is no doubt in my mind about the fact that I want to date her
And I will.
Yeah... so yesterday I went to apply for a new medical card and... well... there was this lady... and... argh! Words don't even do her justice... I'm a wordsmith... but even I can't describe her. I tried though.
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