Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;aopicho@yahoo.com)

It is not a half a yellow sun
Nor a full purple hibiscus
Neither a question of Americana
But the political tidbits of Africana
They are indeed a half a government
Neither a coalition nor coalescence
But a journey which starts with one
Very African mile in the sunny city of Nairobi
In the country Kenya where there is hakuna matata
Where gorgeous skyscrapers hang loosely
Like Towers of Singapore in a babellian ego
Swam of humanity in full pomp and glory
Money, property and cityish aura
Moving up and down in bluish collar task
Flock and throng like the north bound mating fish
In the waters of river Nile; O Nile!........,

Moving you down then the countries
Passing the geographical enigma
Of the Great Rift Valley view point
Putting a wonder working escapement before
Your eyes in which once the daughter of primitive
Political bourgeoisie rolled in a Germany Volkswagen
And gasped the last ****** breath
A beautiful Maasai breathe echoing
In the ***** of masculine bowels
The waves of erotically charged ions,

You then passing down to Nakuru minus
Your meat eating halt at carnivorous kikobey
Strait to Kiamba  area where you easily
Meet the Kalenjin militia in a tribal cleansement
Ruthlessly roasting the human steak of kikuyu merchants
In the church but not a mosque due to scarcity
Both young and old kikuyus being roasted
As they forlorn groan and wail;
Atherere ! atherere ! atherere ! niki kioru muntu wa lumbwa !,

Down you go again to a chilly town of  Eldoret
Where you get a ****** *******
Pursuing a bachelors course at the dumb
Moi university where low temperatures
Curtail lively learning in the pedagogy
Or pedagogy of the kipsigis ******,

Down you go a fresh to the town of Kitale
You meet with  maize and corn in the
Full regalia of colonial economy
In its ostensible memento  
Of the palimpsestish British Empire
In the brutish colonial history
Of man eat man civilization,

Then up you go, you beautiful nincompoop
To the slopes of pokotish kapenguria and
Again down slopes to Ortum valleys then whoopsy!
A half a government starts in full swing
The bush pokot youths utterly naked
Like the chimpanzees in Kakamega forest
Shoals of them and throngs of them
Each having a modern gun,a short gun
A Sten gun,a  machine gun,a slave raiding long gun,
Revolvers, the lethal AK 47,
Them pokot youths; extremely illiterate
Put extremely armed with extremely
Modern weapons like the last wonder of the world,

Up you go into the desert of Dr. Richard Leakey’s first home of man
In the land of the Turkana, to a toast of human misery
Where people are sick, people are naked
People are hungry, people die of starvations
After thorough hunger based emaciation
Redolent of purely   a half a government.

Jeg lader vægten af mit hoveds overarbejde holde dig til jorden (bare lidt endnu).
Aldrig før har jeg følt noget så tomt som hullet i mit hjertet.
Aldrig før har jeg været så bange for sten.
Jeg lover dig at den dag mit hovede lader dig svæve elegant til vejrs vil jeg give slip på min frygt men indtil da ved jeg ikke hvad jeg skal gøre.
Du må forstå at jeg ikke forstår hvor du er og jeg vil lede under hver en sten i verden hvis det kan bringe dig tilbage.
Måske jeg skulle starte med den hvor dit navn er indgraveret i.
Der hvor jeg skulle slippe din hånd og give den videre til et håb om liv efter døden.
Men jeg holder stadig fast som anker der sidder fast under sten.