God has enabled you to live long
Up to the rare  age of ninety years
Not as a blessing to you whatsoever
But as a curse of Knowledge,
For you to realize the evils you did
During your reign of terror,
when you were Kenya's  president .

You misruled Kenya for twenty four years
Clinging to power like **** on lion *****,
You plunged the country into abyss of poverty,
You established torture chambers
And gave priority to prisons,
Special branch police and detention  camps,
You planted tribalism with passion
Favouring your Kalenjin tribes,
Inspiring them with the spirit of sadism,
That fuelled assassination and public fear,
Daniel Moi your ninety years are birthdays,
Of nothing else but tyranny and dictatorship.

You walked with government money in your bag,
You used tax payers money to cement corruption
You often behaved as a duffer, but a rigging expert,
You suffocated all government organs,
For you to remain a strong man of power
Your  horsemen were villains of villains,
To make you think that one tribe is special enough,
To enjoy political favour in their maximum stupidity,
You condemned Kenya to linger amid despair and mire
With your useless Nyayo philosophy,
That was self-suspicious and derisive to reason,
Making Universities submissive to KANU,
Your Political part that was a mere terror wing,
Chaired by Ezekiel Barangetuny the illiterate,
Who called Karl Marx as Karo Mariko,
He thought that presidential dialogue is food,
Expensive food sold by Kikuyus in Nairobi Hotel,
Your chief aim was to suffocate education,
Campaigning for villages polytechnics,
While you are  a heavyweight torturer of Dons
You; Moi , your name is a curse and public earache.

Daniel Branch of Warwick bemoans you dearly,
in his oeuvre of Hope and Despair for Kenyan people,
He often cites;You shot Robert Ouko the first Bullet,
In the head before you plugged out his eyes,
You ignored his cry for forgiveness and mercy,
Then you dumped his cadaver in the Ahero forest,
For it to be eaten by hyenas, black ants and scorpions

It is epical knowledge  among Kenyans,
But at most the people of Trans Nzoia and Bungoma
That when Masinde Muliro died in the plane
The King's Horseman was around, in the plane
Wielding ammonium gun in his pocket.

Charles Rubia and Matiba Kenneth were unlucky,
They both went mad while in the torture chamber,
Koigi wa Wamwere aged while in Kamiti  prison,
Raila Odinga lost his daer testicles while detained,
You punctured his left eye, he always mobs dears,
Every minute and second, and i am sure you Moi
You can't regret and feel for him, if he was your son?
Your horsemen thoroughly flogged Wangare Mathai
the Nobel Laureate,she won the Prize for nothing,
Other than her successful staving of  the pains
From the ferocious whips by your Kalenjin police,
You jailed and jailed people in Kamiti and Manyan
As if your were possessed by the devil of imprisoning
Or may  be you were possessed, were you ?

You fuelled the tribal clashes in Molo,
You motivated Sabaoits to **** the Bukusu,
You chased teachers of Kisii,Luhyia and Luo tribes
From your village of Baringo,where people starve
for no other reason that was genuine and patriotic
But out of your urge of ethnic sadism.

you made us to sing lame poems;
Jogoo !  Nyayo!Jogoo !  Nyayo!
Jogoo !  Nyayo!Jogoo !  Nyayo!
Jogoo !  Nyayo!Jogoo !  Nyayo!
think about , what were we saying?

You owe apology to the people of Kenya
and all others in the diaspora,
For  the stark misrule and reign of tyranny
You perpetrated on them for two decades,
Your ninety years of life are not a blessing,
But God's timing for you to contrite
To repent and repent  your heinous sins,
I personally wish you not  happy birth day
But humanity wants you  to apologize ,
To those  unhappy families and communities
That you detained and killed their kins.

Clenched fist
Paced the little giant about the space
endless body trembles
Chronicles of palm wine infested nerves
What is there in his name?
So much she had stood firm for it
Wanting his love against her kins wish

Offerings to a deity
One that snored with farts
Evil had taken his vision
the first strokes of his cane, the devil’s err
The mighty wrestler had no match
For at the other end stood a damsel
A one in distress

If black is a curse and white the Cause;
Then blank is the page of rationality in a God that’s white.
If a pest fixed pies in the past;
Then its taste lists lies in the cast.
If the bulk lifts a tool and dies;
Then luck befits a pool of dice.
If a kith licks his kins like a broth;
Then the mouse clicks and nibbles like a crook.
If a thief runs away with the loots;
Then our chief grunts with harps and lutes.
Then our land wakes up with hopes and heals;
If the lost takes all the dope on his heels;
And if the thief never comes back to steal our wealth;
Then the land ever in bliss rests from the West.

amazon.com/author/odosimonagbo; for more of similar poetry.

The corpse lied untouched,

In the crepuscular light, 

her shadow enkindled. 

Her kins stood panic-stricken. 

Her fidelity was being questioned. 

It was time now for the sun to set. 

The birds were finding there way.

Migrating

Also,suffering. 

And the darkness was about descend like everyday 

The shadows seemed to be taking over the grimaced faces 

But she however, 

Was trying to resurrect her soul.

This was the epitome of her infatuation. 

But she had always been an Ailurophile,
Always.

Isn’t it a curse to live long
Beloved friends all gone
Kiths and kins buried down
Remains their name on the stone.

Sitting alone at the bay
Hair, beard all grey
As I peep at the past
A few memories that last

Always wanted to live long
Rein the world, get the throne
Luxury, name and fame
Emperor of my own game.

Countless nights wasted on hope
Handful of moments spent for love
Hope lies in fist now
Love is nowhere to be found.

A little too late
To fear death,
A little too late
To turn around.

A faded thought still remains
A desire to be remembered
If not the name I have earned
For the deeds I have done.

I stood before the gods
But none had time to see me
I was kept with the odds
For unlikely reasons, may be
Besides, I am just a feather
Floating with the delirious winds
I hope to be together
But I've lost all my kins
Far and further, I rest on a tree
And see crowds gather
Fortunately, I am free
Camouflaging in this weather
Dirt and dust cover me dearly
Making a coat of foundation
It's hard to make out clearly
So, now I am in fashion
Lots sit or stick out from hats
Dipped in ink, the fancy quills
Decorated in fine mats
Processed in mills
But I am just a part of someone
Whom I've lost in a matter of time
Everyday bored watching the sun
Wonder, what was my bearers crime!


©sim