Felix Omondi: Maybe the Nyayo Era Wasn’t That Bad

I mean, people (still) woke up 
                                    dead
Others disappeared then reappeared
                                                    dead

Our soon to be parents

Still met up in disco (matangas)



For a moment, swung their bell-bottom trousers

To the rhythm of the wind.


While they drank the konyagi of their time 

They spoke in low tones


Of the man. of the man. of the man. of the man. of the man. of the man. of the man. of the man.


      Who was picked up at their work place

      Who got thrown off the 18th floor of Nyayo House onto the traffic on Uhuru Highway

      Who set himself on fire before shooting himself at Got Alila


They whispered the names

Of the men.the men.the men.the men.the men.the men.the men.the men.the men.the men

      Who picked their brother up?

      Who ordered the killings?

Titus Adungosi. Mbaraka Kaiunja. Alexander Kipsang Muge. Karimi Nduthu. Father John Kaiser.


I mean they watched mothers strip naked 

To protest their sons' freedom.


Watched a mad woman tell the dictator to cut a single tree

And he’ll know the root of her madness.


And every Sunday, they wore their best clothes 

Went to church. Sang hymns and made prayers. 

Then later went for dates at Uhuru Park

Where they drank Fanta and fed each other chips

The way lovers in romantic films do

Shared jokes and laughed in each others ears 

The way lovers in romantic films do

Then went home and (made love) fucked


Fathering us — children of a promise.
 

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