This Man (2016)

I wish I were brave,

With courage to face every day,

To always do the right thing,

Courage to fight for what I want,

To fight for those I love,

I wish I had the courage

To condemn wrong,

And stand for right,

Even though I try,

I know that at times I am afraid,

Afraid to fail,

Afraid to face the day,

I am afraid to die,

Or to lose those I love

This man I wish I were


I wish I were humble,

Had humility and not pride,

Humble enough to listen more,

And talk less,

Wish I was humble enough,

To appreciate those who do the little they do,

To criticize less,

And praise more,

But even though I try,

I sometimes let my pride out,

I am not humble enough to listen,

To admit my weaknesses,

But I wish it was different,


As this man, I wish I were


I wish I had love,

Shining in my heart,

To care and share for all,

To see the good in every soul,

I wish I could love,

And not judge,

Love enough,

To help when I can,

I wish I could love

And not envy,

But even though I try,

Sometimes I hate,

Sometimes I love others more,

I envy,

And feel jealous,

But I wish it was different


I wish I were patient,

Patient enough to wait on success,

To guide and teach,


Not to give up on,

My brother and sister,

Slow to anger,

Even though I try,

Sometimes I am in impatient,

Have lost,

In those I guide,


Been angry,

At the world,

At myself

But I wish it was different,


This is the man I wish I were


I wish I were perfect,

A man of no fault,

Excellent at my work,

With a perfect wife,

Family and children,

Even though I try,

Sometimes I make mistake,

I have my weaknesses,

Sometimes the people I love fail me,

But I Wish it was different


I wish to be faithful,

To God and to man,

To follow His teachings and ways,

I wish to be in fellowship with God,

To be a faithful friend,


And even though I try,

Sometimes I fail Him,

In my deeds and thoughts,

Knowing and Unknowing,

Sometimes I have betrayed my friends,

But I wish it was different,


I wish I could do good,

Give people a chance,

I wish I could be a patriot,

A man who loves his country,

Would hate corruption,

And seek integrity in government,

I wish I could deal in hope,

But even though I try,


This is the man I try to be

Sometimes I have felt hopeless,

At the progress of my people,

I have lost faith in the leadership

How I wish it was different


As this is the man I wish I were


Boy in a Girl’s Generation (2015)

I am a boy,

A boy.

In a girl generation,

And here are my tribulations


Daddy told me ‘Not to hit Girls”

And Mummy Said “they are as precious as pearls”

But what if they hit first?

Must I curl and not hit back?

As I watch them,

In laughter, they will all burst,

At how weak a man I am,

I am a boy,

A boy in a girl’s generation


They just have to smile,

Just for a while,

Or move their heaps

Through the steep,

And the world down will bow,

While I toil,

And boil,

As I am a boy,

A boy,

In a  girl’s generation


My money is mine and yours is ours,

So I  have been told,

I will keep my name even though we are married,

So they say,

We will only have it when am in the mood

And so I  nod my head,

And you must pay the bills, clean the house, cook and even carry her hand bags,

In the name of love,

As I am a boy,

A boy born in a girl’s generation


Where is the equality?

When the song is on the girl child

And the boy is curled?

Appears a crime for a boy

To be born in this girl generation




The Wheelchair Guy (2018)

He is handsome alright,

Charming perhaps,

With an infectious smile,

And loud laughter with a happy face,

He lights up the room,

He may be intelligent and wise,

He is humble and kind,

And his name is Charles

Yet they have always known him

 As the guy on a wheelchair,

The one who lives by the corner,


Sometimes fast, sometimes slowly,

He wheels his chair,

His hands accustomed to the grip of the wheels,

Now used to the cold tough steel,

As he know just how much to lift,

To drift and shift,

Just to pass by a ditch, pavement or a raised platform,

Falling off and injuries,

Is but another day in office,

And he will often laugh about them

For the wheelchair guy


Up mountains down valleys he goes

And so is his life in this chair,

As some do smile at him as he passes by,

And others frown least he is contagious,

There are those who get him coins,

Perhaps as it customary

And others stare in amazement and ask,

Does he smile and laugh?

Oooh he does talk and can read !

Then there is the ever apologetic ones,

Ready with the word “sorry”

Even for passing by him,

And he has learnt to live by them,

As he is the wheelchair guy 

I Don’t Want to Die 2018

I don’t want to die like a dog on the streets,

Or in the hands of a mob,

Yelling for mercy yet no one heeding my cry,

Seeing my blood oozing as my life goes by,

I don’t want to die by the bullets of robber,

Or from a stray bullets from a police man,

Just to be another number in the books,


I don’t want to die by the rail,

Or on the road,

As a pedestrian hit and run,

I don’t want to die in a car crash,

And spend my last time in agonizing pain,

I don’t want to die in a plane

Or drawn in the lake or sea,

Suffocate as water fills my lungs

And my body chewed by crocodiles and sharks


I don’t want to die in a hospital,

From cancer or any other terminal disease,

Slowly losing weight,

Gasping for air, struggling to breath,

Too tied to open my eyes,

Unable to speak,

Counting the minutes till the body shuts down,

I don’t want to die from suicide,

I guess I don’t want people to remember me as hopeless


I don’t want to die from poison,

As I don’t think I can take,

The pain and agony of my intestine tearing away,

As I take my last breath,

I don’t want to die in my sleep,

Slowly and silently sleep away without goodbye,

I don’t want to die from a heart attack

Or is it cardiac arrest


I don’t want to fall off a cliff,

Or die from too much cold or heat,

I don’t want to die in an earthquake,

Not from floods or mudslides,

Not from an electric shock

I don’t want to die in a stampede,

Or in the hands of a serial killer,

I   don’t want to die of starvation,

Or eaten my a leopard in the jungle


I don’t want to die of old age,

My body hooked to machines,

Fading away minute by minute,

Watching as my loved ones cry,

I don’t want to die of loneliness

Not from depression or a stroke,

Call me selfish but I don’t want to die

As there is no better way to die

My story 2018

Who let these people into my house?/

Who showed them the door to my bedroom?/

How did they get to my dirty laundry?

Why are they going through my underwear drawers?/

Why are they talking to my family?/

Why are they making my wife smile?/

How are they making my brothers and sisters laugh?/

And my children excited?/

Why is my father and grandfather nodding? /

Who are they to tell me what to?/

How to do it?/

And who are they to tell mine story/


I hear them say I am a dark man,/

Yet they refuse it has nothing to with skin colour,/

They say I have a rich body/

And weak in mind/

But refuse to attribute it to the mental slavery/

They subjected me to if not the physical detention/

So I ask/

Who are these people? That they should own me/

And tell my story/


The lord of poverty they call me,/

And accuse of starving my children,/

Giving them only one meal a day,/

Putting children to work they say is child labour,/

They call me primitive uncultured and accuse me/

Of early marriages and FGM’s/

Solution is to gather the neighbour,/

Donate some food, clothes and money/

And come into my home,/

With child trafficking and pornography/

And pedophiles,/

Yet they want to tell my story,/

Air my dirty laundry for the world to see,/

How dare they bask in the glory,/

Of telling my story,/


I had that I was cruel, /

That I shouldn’t beat my wife and children,/

And in fact they say it’s an offence,/

While they may be right,/

Who told them they are better,/

Fifty sheds of grey and you will see their animalistic character,/

Sadomasochistic behavior which is not illegal by the way,/

Who made them boss over me,/

That they should qualify to tell mine story?/


Democracy and fairness in sharing food in the house,/

They tell me,/

Corruption in the house is bad/

And the brother against brother wars is not healthy/

And as much as I agree/

Who are they to come into my house/

And tell my story/

While they run their houses with twitter/

And care so much about skin colour/

While they scare one another with measiles/

And war/

How dare they tell mine story/

Tell it to their children/

To their women and men/


Please let me tell my story/

I own it/

The bad and good it’s mine to tell/

So get off your high horses /

And get out of my house/

And let me tell my story/





Dear Mother (2018)

I know you have heard this,

Many times seen many come with bliss,

And you may not believe me,

As my words are hard to see,

As the fish love the water,

Mother, I love your daughter,

The future I can never tell,

But this to you I do sell,

Mother, I love your daughter,

And in this will never faulter


I may never be good enough,

To call your daughter wife,

But I will try

Not to make her cry

But to love her everyday

And this is my truth to say,

For mother I love your daughter,

And I promise never to fault her

As heart to heart we speak,

Eye to eye each other we seek,


It’s true we don’t speak the same tongue,

But mother this song is sung,

Yes I may come from the east,

But I am no beast,

Just like you we get hungry and feed,

And when you cut us we bleed,

Just like you we love the sun and the rain,

And in death we feel the pain,

Mother we love too as I do your daughter,

Without faulter,

In her bright smile I have found delight,

An Angel in my sight


Mother I may not have enough silver and Gold,

But I will protect your daughter from the cold,

I will give her a home,

And keep her from the storm,

I will shield her from the noise,

But let her speak her voice,

As she walks through her radiant path,

For she knows her worth,

Mother, like the fish love the water,

So do I love your daughter


 So beautiful,

Is the sight of the morning sun,

Rising from the East,

The freshness of a new day,

The calm morning breeze,

Songs of the morning birds,

Welcome to my ears

So Beautiful,

Is the prospect of a new day,

The peace and bliss,

The art of God



Are the Rivers and the Lakes,

The fountains and the breaks,

High mountains with snow caps,

The deserts with their features,

So beautiful,

Are the valleys and seas,

The plains and the High lands

All in harmony

And in sinc

So beautiful

Is the art of God



So clean and green,

The colour of the grass and trees,

Some thorny, others flesh,

Yet others slimmy,

Is the diversity of the plant life,

Then the flowers,

So Beautiful,

As they bring life to it,

The green, red and yellow

Is the art of God,






So beautiful is the sky,

With the stars to light it up,

Different types of clouds,

The moon and the stars at night,

And the sun in the day,


Is the rain,

The snow,

Colours of the rainbow,

Is the art of God,



So beautiful

Are the birds of the air,

The fish in the waters,

And the whale at sea,

The butterfly

And the aunts and bees,

With their sweet honey,


Are the cats dogs lions and zebras,

Manifest of the art of God


Then there is the woman,


So Beautiful,

That she has turned men into poets,

Turned men into artist,

Her curves, soft skin,

Have made countries go to war,

Her soft belly and breast,

Have turned men mad with desire,

Her eyes and lips

Ignite in the inside of men a fire,

Her hair

The warmth of her body,

So beautiful

As perhaps

She is the epitome of the art of God