Daydreaming in The Rain

It’s a beautiful day for dreaming

The sun’s out behind gray clouds

And winged termites rush like hounds

The rain birds fast are coming.

Bring out the poms poms for dance

Trim the grass that we may sit

And hand me a whiskey clean and neat

Here on the fields where the brown hare runs.

The drop[s of rain taste coolly

The flavored the soil now I’m hungry

Can’t light the fire coz ma’ll be angry

Rolling on wet grass was ne’er folly

My papers are sticky and dumb

The pen fell in that puddle

Is this to much to handle?

I feel an itch in my thumb.

Five lines is what I got

No praise for soon it rained

And when I stood my knees pained

The yellow termite in my roof made a rot

I fell in the puddle of water

And the mud splashed my face

The rain is falling now it’s a race

Will postpone dreaming for later.

©Ciss27^th April07

Further Ahead

I’ll sleep easy and dream

Forget the day, life’s film.

I wished upon an eye lash

Blew it, it rose, made me hush

I saw a shooting star

It shot and slid afar

Beyond my wish, my desire

And now there’s no luck for hire

Long days with short hours

Not even time to touch flowers

It’s a hurried life we lead

Ignoring our real need

We drive cars and even hammers

With less life than farmers

Chase ideas out of reach

While it’s a different call for each.

So tonight is just a start

A new valve’s in my heart

Set things straight when I sleep

Maybe put a sway in my hip

Further ahead we’ll look up

Long for sun ,for stars, for a nap

When the mind’s clogged and unclear

And silence is all you want to hear.

Make wishes ,have hopes, desire

And let them fly like kites

Tomorrow we climb higher

Up ,up and away to great heights

But wishes are light

Without substance like thin tights

Rather, sleep and dream

And keep flowing like a stream.

©Ciss26^th april07

My Old Friend

Lets not forget who we are,

How, late at night we sang,

When sleep was beyond reach

By the fire you wove, I read

Throwing bits of sisal and paper

To keep the fire burning

We were close

We laughed and drowned the silences

We sat quiet to clear our minds,

And took turns to check on the cattle

The distance can be bridged

But you know and I know well,

It’s not the distance or the time-

Change caught us abruptly

Though inside we know

I know ,you know ,there remains

A cord that will not thin

Despite passing fads and prejudice,

In spite of crowding and joyrides

Me ,you, we will always have be.

So let’s keep it and treasure

Who we are, what we were,

Let’s not forget.

I’ll come home, my beloved

To the land of hills and many trees

Though I may take time

And only come a visit,

We remain.

Perhaps with the passing of time

We’ll not be separated anymore

Let’s hold onto what we have, now,

Little but enough to accommodate our souls,

Just like the old times

Just like at the beginning ,my old friend.

©Ciss 27^th April 2007

Poem

All in My Mind….

But I walk around like death,

In folds and wraps of emotions,

Questions,

Searching for a deeper hold,

A meaning, a reason.

Tasteless,

Bland existence,

There’s, uncertainty and anxiety.

My love is gone,

The strong hold is ignored,

I wish to scream I can’t,

I sob, I muse,

I got the blank stare.

It was love that come to me quick,

It presented safety and freedom,

My baby’s gone-

Can I be free?

I broke the binds for adventure,

To experience,

Not depend on hearsay.

I’m weepy and afraid,

Sad,

I’m unbound,

I feel bound,

Tied up even cowardly.

To whom do I answer?

Who’s loyalty do I proclaim,

Fellow humans?

A higher authority?

My heart’s love?

Or my true feelings?

What is love, What is right?

Show me truth, give me answers.

My love shall return,

Will I change loyalties.

Can I forget the past?

Far before it all started?

What kept me?

Did I replace one for the other.

How wrong, is wrong,

How certain is certainty?

What is real, what holds water.

Or do I just have the 16ths?

12^th-15^th April07

UHURU PARK?YEAH,RIGHT

Have you ever been to Ngara from 5pm onwards? All the way from the post office to the bridge, the hawkers spread out their items edge to edge. Shouts of skirt na mia, soo mbili viatu! Can be heard. So you bend to try on some shoes and fitting a pair, you turn to your shopping partner to ask – how do I look. Your partner comments and you criticize the heel is a bit high,,, but because its only soo mbili, you decide, what have I got to lose? You reach your back pocket and take out the two hundred shillings note. Of cause when you go to Ngara you always carry loose money. You turn to give the hawker the money but he’s nowhere. All around are men and women helter skelter, bags on their shoulders. Everyone on the run has some baggage on him.
The rest of the crowd constitutes of prospective buyers. Standing with silly grins, some holding maybe a single shoe or wearing some jeans under a skirt. In all the eagerness to try on those strappy open wedges you missed the commotion, the escape. All because the –kanju- has appeared. The kanju doesn’t forgive. They are like starved Alastians who never let go until a piece of you is in their mouth. So you wait around a bit. You know the trader will come back. Slyly, with nothing on him and ten minutes later, the market will be alive again, when the kanju lorry has passed on to terrorize others on the other side.
The Uhuru Park is recently a part in its own right. It was, then it lost it, but now it’s got it back together. The grass is green and trimmed, and the preachers are more. My friend and I decided to visit Uhuru Park, seeing as it was , a bright day after days of rain and mud. We were going to have a picnic. We walked round looking for a right spot. Walked some more. Finally found one portion that wasn’t so crowded. It was that long weekend and I came to believe what the press claims, that families like to go to Uhuru park and take a boat ride. The famous boat ride. Always thought it was myth. Days I’ve gone, I never saw so many boats on the move. But I go on weekdays. There is that one part that has these small enclosures, with barbed wire around. The spot we spotted was in one of these. We went round looking for the entrance,and we see this part where the wire is tied up together. We crossed over. Then we heard- wewe!we….and this very dark and badly dressed woman, with a shaved head is gesturing to us. Saying “kuja hapa”. I didn’t know her so I assumed it wasn’t my call. We were going to sit, when she storms over to us and starts to make a lot of noise. Between us, I was the one who could understand Kiswahili faster. I can’t speak Swahili fast, and if I tried to speak English at that instance, the madam would start to talk of how much pride we were displaying. So she was asking- mumefanya nini, “mnafikiri hakuna sheria eh?” What have you just done? Do you think there is no law? And we were wondering,what have we done? So I ask
“ Tumefanya…….?” What have we done?
“ Hamjui mmefanya nini?” You don’t know what you have done?
You get it, the kind of questions that makes you want to pass out. We had trespassed, by not using the small entrance at one corner of the quarter acre of grass enclosure. Their car was parked at the small entrance.
Trespas?Into that enclosed place, is it a –don’t step on the grass portion?
She harassed us and walked us to the car, where we found another equally bad dressed driver, furtive, who kept reminding us, they are the keepers of order.
“Have you not seen how clean this place is? Even the tent church, we plucked it out.”
The madam was sited astride, one foot inside the vehicle the other hanging out., and in her hand a 300ml krest, bitter lemon, with lid still on- but a hole drilled through it. Know how miraa chewers like to drink their soda? Or matatu conductors? So that it doesn’t get finished quick or spill? So she was sucking mls from her soda and saying how they’d lock us up until Tuesday morning. Else, if we had Ksh10,000 , they would let us go. That they called a cash bill.Their supervisors came soon after, better dressed and one started to speak to me in kikuyu, calling me Njeri- guess my teeth gave me away. He talked of leaving them something small; to buy another barbed wire so that next time we wouldn’t jump over the fence. I told him we were students and for freedomssakes couldn’t he see neither of us was athletic enough to jump over a fence?
We only had our bus fare left..I said and added I could bring some barbed wire from from my grandmother’s farm,if he let us go.
I said and he laughed. The, others who were speaking Kalenjin, were getting impatient- “Kama unataka kusaidia mtu yenu, msaidie haraka.”If you want to help your tribe’s men, do it quick.
What do you know, the 3rd stage bosses arrived. These actually had uniforms and badges. They all packed them into the Toyota. One, who seemed to have more command wanted to be driven to the town centre. The driver started to say – with these two?
“Yeah yeah, came the reply. There in no hurry, after all they’ll be locked until next week, what harm to shown them a bit of town.”
Another added that we could be dropped at central police along the way. So we drove off, until the road that goes to Upperhill. The kikuyu guy said we were students. The boss looked back-
“Why did you go catching students for?”
“ They jumped over a fence.”
“How much do they have?”
“ Soo nne (four hundred).”
“Chukua .”(take it)
So we gave the sock we had, for them to buy another barbed wire.I expected a receipt,in my naivity.
Then they let us out of the car.
“Where do you study?”The Madam asked
“KSPS?’
“Ile iko Aga khan?”The one in Aga Khan?
“Yeah, and I’m a journalist.”
“Which newspaper?”
I just had to say that. Like way you break up a fight and hold back the two fighters but one of them still lunges forwards to try fix the other one a nail(a scratch)? I must have been doing something similar.
Yes, I’m a journalist, a reporter, beware, you will find this story in the papers! I have a hidden camera, that money’s dyed………..
We moved over to the other side,near Serena.The only disturbance here was the beggars in all shapes, buzzing around us like crows at a slaughter house.
My friend’s family, about eight of them, went to Uhuru Park the following day, they were in two boats, and one of them let in water. So they drowned. Not completely. But they got very wet. I was imaging them shivering at the stage on their way back. Anyway, the city’s harsh.

Swimming In Cotton

I could ask- how are you,
I could say- wassup up,
But I don’t feel like it

I could smile and greet
I could slide and merge
But I don’ wan’t to

I scrawl and make face
I make no effort,
They’re oblivious

I want to go where I belong
But I wan’t to stay and experience
Just a short time, just a few days.

I chose,but not naively,
No mistake it’s an education
Wise up, this could happen.

Take me away, but not home.
Take me away
And reassure me once again.

It’s only with you I find comfort,
It’s you I see with my eyes
It’s you I want to be with.

{I read this at Kwani Open Mic April.It's about Language.Just how many can you learn?}

Happy Boy, A Very Happy Boy.

Kihii Gikenu Muno

Let's Write It A Happy Ending

When the bus bus stopped everyone was eager to get out. Bags were spilling from the top shelves and the sound of shoes on the bus floor. Some tried to reach their footwear, earlier on discarded for the heat in the bus,, and now the shoes were sliding further and further from reach; some dusting the dust from their hands, others cursing when bags fell on them….
The engine was still running and well, some thought they were still in a Matatu in Nairobi city, which would start to move again before they got out. Others, from their accent were just excited to be home. Happy that the 9 hour journey had come to an end. Glad that despite the bumpy road and the inevitable dangers of night travelling, they were home safe.
Two souls sat still. Unperturbed by all the aggitation surrounding them.
Two souls seated with their seatbelts still on. Both of them still looking out of their respective windows. Out into the dawning day. Alert to the exterior sounds of the town at dawn. Sounds of milk containers, Boda bodas and Tuk Tuks. Calls of morning birds and whistles of traders. To sites of dull bulbs and deserted streets, with city council workers broom to pavement; papers cans and mango seeds flying and scaping the pavements.
The engine went silent.
The reggae music died, bringing the two back inside. Every other passenger had left. The driver was hunched, head down on the stiring wheel. Orpah clipped apart her seat belt stood up and looked around. No one the entire front. Her glance turned backwards.Close to the back of the bus was sitted a tall fellow turned to the side, seemed to be searching for something in his bag. She sat again and continued to look out of the window.

Sand In My Hair

Two weeks away it feels like the whole world should've changed
But I'm home now,
And things still look the same
I think I'll leave it till tomorrow to unpack
Try to forget for one more night
That I'm back in my flat on the road
Where the cars never stop going through the night
To a life where I can't watch sunset
I don't have time
I don't have time

I've still got sand in my shoes
And I can't shake the thought of you
I should get on,
forget you
But why would I want to
I know we said goodbye
Anything else would've been confused
but
I wanna see you again

Tomorrow's back to work and down to sanity
should run a bath and then clear up the mess
I made before I left here
Try to remind myself that I was happy here
Before I knew that I could get on a bus flow away
From the road
where the cars never stop going through the night
To a life where I can't watch sunset
And take my time
Take up our time

I wanna see you again
Two weeks away,
all it takes
to change and turn me around,
I've fallen
I walked away and never said
that I wanted to see again
I wanna see you again
I wanna see you again
{Dido}

Robinson Island Part 3:I Shall Return

We were Guddy's guests On16th and 17th March 2007.
After the planting we waded through sea water to get into the Island,and .Man oh Man,,,,excellent beauty started to open up.
We rested a bit,then had luch,and a swim,until late.
At night we had a choice of sleeping place. Some choose to sleep on the sand with a mosquito net hang from a tree branch tucked into the sand.Others simply sprayed mosquito repellant on themselves and slept besides a bonfire. Others slept in the cabins. In the morning we woke up to watch the sunrise over the ocean.Meanwhile, the crabs kept us entertained with their gimmicks. Running out of the water, then the water drugs them back and it goes on forever .That’s a funny way to spend the day aai, even if its weight you wan’ shed …………
Anyway. The sun came out. Brilliant orange with copper reflection on the water.I sighed and sighed.
Then we went back to sleep…taking a nap at the coast was as easy as blinking. In Nairobi, sleep always requires to be seduced , at least for me
When we finally got into a boat to take us to the mainland , I felt sad, but not deep sadness. Just the kind of sadness you feel like when you have to leave bed in the morning? You know you will return in the evening so it’s just a matter of time. It was a dream come true. To go to an island. I had to fight very hard within myself, not to go on my knees and beg Guddy .
-Please let me stay- I’ll do anything, I’ll carry the manure, I’ll wash you feet, I’ll rake the entire island two times a week…..don’t let me go-
I’m grateful, to all who made the experience possible. Guddy and Friday’s Ark for having us , Ben for his good people skills and good organization , Omari for his great culinary skill and calm nature, Matse for tempting us enough to try the island we even had tickets ( you’ll love it, woo, with the sunrise and little crabs coming out ,,,,,for your poetry….) Thanks. But you said there’d be black Mambas,I saw none. Rehema , who gave us an enthusiastic tour of the island .The crew, for being patient with habitual latecomers and Katsaras, you made it possible, untied my knots.

Siku Saba

Kila wakati nafikiria nalisema jina lako
Nalia.
Uso wako wa huzuni hauondoki
Akilini
Naumia.
Niliwashwa kukuona vile.
Maisha yangu kayagawa katikati.
Naamini upendo.
Naamini ukweli pia.
Upendo ni mvuto wa nguvu.
Sababu nakupenda, nilikupenda
Siku ya kwanza ulipoongea.
Mivuto hii, maisha haya.
Ndani ya ukweli nakosea hisia zangu.
Hisia zangu za ukweli kwamba nakupenda.
Nataka kukupenda……
Lakini,
Maisha niliyoyachagua
Yaniondoa
Nakuweka mbali
Nikiwa nachomwa Ndani,
Sababu ya kukupenda,
Sababu hufai kujua haya……
Kheri ungejaribu kuelewa,
Najua wajaribu, wakati mwingine kupenda,
Kujua,
Kupotewa.
Nataka kukupenda!

Robinson Island:Part 2:Guddy

Guddy has build a school for the community children on the island. There’s a restaurant .Robinson Island Restaurant,that serves delicious sea foods. She has organized training for the young ladies in the community. They weave the hammocks, They do the house keeping for the cabins, they also weave mats and practically , every skill that one living on an Island can do to make money.
" I plan to organize baking lessons for them, and soon we filtering water to have clean bottled water, for the guests and for sale. The men have learnt wood work and the strong beds and chairs used on the island are designed and assembled right there. The children are not left aside. They take part in protecting the turtle eggs. The sea turtles come out to lay eggs along the beach. These eggs can be washed away or taken by human being. The hatchlings can also be in danger of ending on a plate or eaten by other sea animals . A basket is dug around the eggs, and when they hatch the remain inside.When all come out , then they can all be guided to the sea. Each turtle to a child."
Guddy has won different awards from the United Nations,which she deserves and which are not even enough. She should get more . She keeps referring to herself as a simple kikuyu woman. She could be half Arab, from her looks.
When she talks you don’t want her to stop. You want hear everything ,everything. She’s fun and can fit in with everyone. I kept thinking, I should study her, like have six months of Guddy study? She is resourceful and humble in a humbling way . She reminded me of a mother. A wife , who likes to remain in the background while all that goes is from her.
-So exactly what are you?- I ask , then add, -an environmentalist? But you’re also a social worker? Yeah ?-
‘Well ,yeah, I like to work with people more.The restaurant and others can be exhausting’ – But you are doing what you love, no complains hm?-
‘Yes .no regrets and the energy around me is unlimited.’
Robinson island is named after the Robinson Crusoe fiction story. The guy who discovered the island ,a David someone was on the island after his boat broke , trying to built another. It was desert then. But after some days he got an idea , he invited some locals for a meal. Soon they were planting trees and giving the desert island a makeover. The community that works alongside Guddy and her husband is called Fridays’ Ark. After the character Friday who was Robinson Cruose’s partner on the fictional island. Similar stories but this one is having an ending that fits good things coming out of it everyday ( lets rewrite it an ending that fits,
instead of a Hollywood Horror.
Nothing’s wrong just as you know that ,
some day I will,some day,somehow,
gonno make it alright,but not right now,
I know you’re wondering,why{Nickleback-Someday})

A fee ksh 1500 is charged for students wishing to visit Robison Island, but at advance booking is important. That is quite cheap, for lunch, supper and breakfast. One needs a mosquito repellant and a net if one’s to sleep in the open, plus personal effects. It’s worth a visit. It feels like taking a gulp of a new drink that makes your want to nguruma kama simba (roar like a lion).