Monday, April 21, 2008

A Moment


By Mwashi Litonde Peter.

Think, Think for a Moment,
Of the abilities within you to change,
To change not a moment,
But the world we are at the moment!

A Moment is here for us to create,
And to contribute, at least for a moment,
That which is needed for precious moments in future,
Even if it’s a comment in moment!

At least you and I share one thing, This Moment!
A moment that gives us hope for the next,
Shall we set this moment for positive?
Can we dedicate this moment for change?

This moment comes with a story,
A story of shared- past moments,
Those which are deep within us, for us!
Moments that has made who we are today,

A moment like this can only be special,
It’s new but lives with us forever,
It awakens us to rise up to the occasion!
In a moment, this one will be over!

But imagine how it would turn in a moment,
To utilize the potential within you,
In sharing your wisdom and creativity,
So to have this moment marked and treasured!

Of the Billions of people in the world,
How many moments are those?
At this moment, we can decide to overcome!
And finally at one moment we shall say,
“It’s a moment worth remembering”

Mother Peace


By Mwashi Litonde Peter

You are said to be a healer,
Or should I say a reconciler?
We are told you comfort and console,
You heal and cure the broken hearts!

But where were you mother peace,
When things went out of hand,
When brother turned against brother,
When “Killing” overpowered you,
It is the moment we needed you most oh peace!

We longed for your presence and control,
When helpless children were mercilessly killed
When women and sisters were being raped,
When neighbors cared no more for each other,
A time when houses were being torched!

Where did you hide yourself peace?
When gun shots flared all over,
When the fire was burning day and night,
When the stones rained all over
And cries filled the air oh peace!

Not to imagine when they shot dead my brother,
When through the sword demise met my mother,
When they stoned to death my dear dad,
When my sister stopped breathing,
After they misused her every opening,
When my family perished in fire!

How come you didn’t show up mother peace?
When grannies were running for their lives,
When the thirst for human blood rocked,
When hate dictated our moves and actions,
More than ever the time we craved for you!

But I have heard the whispers and rumors,
That you showed up on several occasions,
That you knocked on our doors and mind,
That you always clinked in our conscious,
But we decided to ignore you peace!

You only needed our attention and support,
To overcome the ills within us,
You needed us to realize your potentials,
And ability to conquer the unfortunate,
But we were too busy with revenge!

Your voice would be heard calling,
Yelling loudly to us to stop and think,
Asking us to care and reason,
Pleading to us for tolerance and patience,
But we took it as noise and distraction peace!

But now we call upon you mother peace,
That you may forgive us for our ignorance,
And that you remain with us and never leave,
Guide us through your steps, walk with us!
Help us to know you oh peace!

Fill our hearts with your character,
Come to our minds and souls,
Befriend our brothers and sisters,
Let the children respect you always!
Accompany our parents when they go and come!

We cannot afford to be without you any more,
Having you assures us of the future,
You offer yourself to us and between us,
Remind us of your strength regularly
Be first in our differences oh peace!

With you we can laugh and hug,
We can argue and never fight,
We can differ and never be enemies,
For you draw your strength from forgiveness,
And our children can bravely face the future
Leaning on you and referring to you always!

And at last we shall live in freedom,
With confidence to swim out safely,
From situations of anger, hate jealous and revenge,
To the land where you rule and dominate,
Only if we know and embrace you mother peace!
For with peace, we win!

Peace to all!!

Pen and Paper


By Mwashi Litonde Peter.

My Son, You are now a grown up Boy,
Although you have come up not with Joy,
There is still hope for you to Enjoy,
Only if you fight not to Destroy,
Make use of this Pen and Paper!

I give you this Pen and Paper,
That you may write of your Past and Future,
Don’t shy away from the huddles you’ve come through,
Write of the forgotten Heroes and Heroines of Our Nation,
Write about their efforts for freedom,
Write about Dedan Kimathi and Tom Mboya
Write My Son with this Pen and Paper!

My Son this should be your weapon,
To highlight of the social injustices you’ve come through,
Write of the Human Rights violations witnessed,
About the children dying from Hunger in the land of plenty,
Mention about the neighbor who defiled your sister,
Write about the impunity with which they Killed!

With this Pen and Paper, You will let the world know,
It will be known of the sleeping teacher in your class,
Let it be known of the cheating and stealing politician,
Don’t forget of the careless local leaders,
Who share the sweat and the blood of innocent,
Write and write with this Pen and Paper!

But again my son,
Be fare with your writing,
Write about the beautiful sites of Nature,
About the Maasai Mara and Lake Nakuru,
About the Great Rift Valley and Mt Kenya,
Jot of the Kenyan coast and Lake Victoria,
Never forget the Tsavo and the Mau forests!

In your writing, include this Paragraph,
About the Richness in culture of our 42 Tribes,
On this Paper you can draw,
Draw the cows in Rift Valley and North Eastern,
Paint the farming in Central and the Fishing in Nyanza,
Outline the Hard work in western and the hunting in Eastern,
Why not color the tourism in the coast?
Frame all this with the Business in Nairobi!

Continue writing of the abuses in the Industries,
Of the poor wages and Harsh working conditions,
Don’t forget of the commanding and abusive language
Write these in red!
Write about the illegal detentions at the expense of justice,
Write on how you were brutally arrested with no offense,
All these with this Pen and Paper!

Remember on how you were denied a chance,
A chance to compete in a music contest, Your crime?
You don’t have a God farther even though you are talented,
Remember also when you could not join the National team,
Write my Son of the Auditions you never managed,
Full of talent, But you are not known,
Write my son with this Pen and Paper!

Write of the Organization,
That gave you 200 shillings to Riot,
I know you my Son, you are a Defender,
You did this with a passion to change and,
To let your Voice be heard and not for the 200 shillings
But what happened when you were badly beaten by the Authorities?
The Organizers were taken to Nairobi Hospital,
And you were taken to a poor Local clinic!

In your writing, mention this,
Mention on how they preach water and take wine,
Write of the few hypocrites in the name of Religion,
Hiding their real character during the day,
Make sure you include their immoralities,
Write on how they speak of richness in Heaven,
When they seek theirs on earth!
Write my Son, with this Pen and Paper!

Write on how you would like it be,
Wouldn’t life be better if we lived in Freedom?
Freedom to enjoy our Human Rights and Democracy,
How about letting the prevalence of Justice?
Justice despite of our political, economic or social Background,
How better would it be to fairly share our National resources?
It would be a heaven on earth if corruption would actually,
Burn in eternity, It is the heaven we may want NOW!
Write it down My Son, with this Pen and Paper!

But before you write all these, my Son,
Make sure you have enough Ink,
The Ink of Courage and Determination,
The Ink to Overcome Threats and Intimidation,
The Ink full of Energy to Change the World and,
To save Our Nation!

Check if the Ink is enough to Motivate our,
Fellow brothers and sisters to join in,
And guarantee your generation and the future ones,
A better place to live in and a hope to Overcome!
Go on my Son, and write with this Pen and Paper!

Dedicated to the Youths of Kenya!

My Bike

By Mwashi Litonde Peter

This poem is inspired by a story of a small boy living as an internally displaced person in the Rift valley Kenya after the post election violence witnessed in the country as a result of disputed results of the presidential election, announced on 30th December 2007.

The violence left over 200,000 people displaced and more than 1000 dead. The worst affected area was the cosmopolitan Rift valley. Women and children suffered the most.

The boy was in the Kenyan media on the material day he went back for his bike. I can only imagine his feelings as he awaits what the future holds for him and many in the camp.

I once owned a bike, a good bike,
This bike was part of me,
A treasure that I can’t measure
It perfectly, suited me, served me!
A bike that no one couldn’t like!

It would take me to school,
I would use it to go to the shops,
And more so to visit my friends!
With my bike we all shared a ride,
One after the other, together we enjoyed.

But I left my bike behind, out in rain,
When everyone was running for their life,
How come I didn’t remember
That with my bike I would be faster?
My bike, I undermined its potential!

It has bean worrying me much,
Of what begot my dear bike.
Today I ran miles back to find out,
At this point tears fill my eyes,
And not that my bike is not there,
But of the condition I found my bike!

Full of rust, it is won out,
It cannot function at the moment,
The chain is dry out of oil,
The tires are full of punctures and wholes,
I can only carry my bike on the shoulders!

What pains me, is the neighbor, my neighbor
Who warned me not to dare come back,
I wish he new the pain in me of my bike!
A bike that was well functioning,
But it will need a serious service to serve!

My bike will need a scrub and a new paint,
White I propose, to look new!
A Lubricating oil from the city of tolerance
New tires that can endure this journey of democracy,
And stronger brakes to control the impatience

If possible another pair of peddles of dialogue
A good sit of love and trust will work,
This way I will have my bike back may be better,
To take me to school, and to my friends,
One by one I will carry them,

To a new field cleared of impunity!
The field of truth, justice, and reconciliation,
And more so of a mature democracy,
I will start with my very own neighbor,
For with my bike we shall peddle once again!

The poet is a children rights activist and a thespian specializing with participatory approaches for community change working with an initiative ‘Child PEACE Africa’ currently in Korogocho slums in Nairobi Kenya. (