Peter Irungu

30/01/2019

09/12/2018

In response to an argument that there was not a real choice on the Kenyan ballot in 2017, Sewe Saldanha responded "that is where we go wrong. "...there was no real choice for most Kenyans...". I do wonder what we mean by that, to be honest. If my memory serves me right, there were 8 names on the ballot. 8 names. But people chose the one person who had five years of prior practice to show you he didn't deserve to be elected in the first place. And a genocide indictee at that. Five years of "munataka nifanye"? Five years of "usalama unaanza na wewe". Five years of slowly eroding the gains done by the Kibaki administration. Five years of incompetence. Five years of a sustained slide back into structural poverty, and deliberate erosion of institutions. Five years of tinkering with the new katiba. When I hear someone says "...there was no real choice...", what they truly mean, is that there was nobody else better from their tribe. You want to have a mature conversation, let's be honest to ourselves first. Indulge me for a bit here, let's do a mental experiment; you talking of "...no real choice...", assume Prof., Kibwana vied, you think he'd be elected?"
And that ladies and gentlemen, is worth applause

07/12/2018

My boys are dying.
Some of them are poets.
They have written a thousand poems and not one, has earned them a living.
Open mics don't open the door when the landlord closes your house.

My boys are dying.
Some of them are singers.
You may or may not have heard their songs before.
But every meal time they eat their own songs and choke on their lyrics.

My boys are dying.
Don't let those Nike shoes fool you.
There's nothing 'correct' about the heart of a young man who has nothing...
But his Nike shoes.

My boys are dying,
From being misunderstood.
Understand that my boys will do anything for money.
Understand that sometimes the modern woman has a watchman, CCTV cameras, and a Mobile App that will send people to fix anything in her house.
So the only security she might need from her man, is financial.

My boys are dying because their pocket is light.
My boys are dying because their heart is heavy.
Maybe, If they had Whitney's voice,
They would sing their heart out and watch it beating right in front of them.

My boys are dying,
from heartbreaks,
from disappointments,
they are not asking to win all the time,
they are asking to win atleast this one time.

My boys are dying because the universe has refused to accept them as stars.
Now they are earth bound,
bound to be earth,
earth is soil,
soil is sometimes called dirt.
My boys are dirty.
My boys are dying from working in sewers and garbage points without proper gear,
Their families fear,
But it's what steers a living,
Believing, tomorrow will come but today is leaving.

My boys are dying from taking care of families that don't feel taken care of,
My boys are dying from bullet wounds,
My boys are dying for being boys,
for being big boys,
for being just boys,
for being bus boys,
for being in a group of boys.

Ask the jail warden,
My boys are dying inside.
My boys are dying from intestinal wounds,
from duodenal wounds,
My boys are dying outside.
My boys are dying in tribal fights.
My boys are dying because their leaders are clashing.
My boys are dying because their leaders are lying.
My boys are dying because every government arm is thieving and our president is saying see, I have no arm for reaching but they all riching.

My boys are dying because integrity is dying.
My boys are dying because their dreams are dying.
My boys are dying because there's nothing to go back to.
I know boys my age in the streets going back to back blaming a whole country for not having their back.
My boys are dying because Tom Mboya did not live long enough.
My boys are dying because their talent is not enough.
My boys are dying because they lost hope.
My boys are dying because their mind is at war.

My boys are dying and oh boy,
I'm not the one to save them!