I recently performed a poem for Wole Soyinka, Africas first Nobel Laureate. The poem is about the state of affairs in Kenya following the recent botched Presidential election. Here it is:
And so we danced,
Like over filled balloons, our hearts swelled with uncontainable joy,
And like overfilled balloons, they burst,
Exploding with the thunder, of the dawn of a new day,
A day of hope,
Shimmering with the luster of new beginnings,
We danced, and sang, and hugged,
And raised our hands to the heavens,
Thanking god for a victory, we had not yet won,
The odds were stacked in our favor, and defeat
Was unfathomable, improbable and therefore impossible
And so our feet shuffled,
And our hips swayed
And our shoulders shook,
And sent our arms flying in every every direction
Our bodies bent into shapes that would make a contortionist blush
Our faces lit up with full smiles that pealed into laughter,
As we counted unhatched chickens by the dozen
And readied them for slaughter,
For in celebration, we had declared a feast!
And Democracy watched, and she wept, for she had seen tomorrow…
Oh but the fat ladies song had not yet been sung,
For as we rejoiced, with reckless abandon,
Our opponents plotted, with meticulous precision,
The great theft was set in motion
A robbery to shame all others
Her abduction was laid out on paper,
while she succumbs, to her assailants potion
A treacherous elixir
A kiss of death planted on honey-drenched lips
The abductor steals life… like the murderer
Self-help does not exist here
No twelve step to salvation
She walks the plank
Her twelve steps to the edge of oblivion
She takes ten steps down twelve steps that lead to darkness
With each step, she reaches a new hell
Dante’s inferno
But not yet the end
And Democracy watched, and she wept, for she had seen tomorrow…
And the architect stands over his table
with his tools laid out in all their splendor
Dexterous hands run over their fine features
His touch is familiar,
his weapons yield in their masters hands
living weapons dressed in blue and black
pitch black shoe and camouflage slacks
living weapons that carry weapons of their own
He sends them on a mission, to rape and kill their own
They come in the name of justice
to those who will never know what just is,
to stop the ethnic conflict
but their tongue and their heart conflict
fueled by hate their hearts burn and raise the landscape
leaving burning huts and no escape
Fires blaze
Darkness falls
chaos reigns
And Democracy watched, and she wept, for she had seen tomorrow…
