To the giants you cling,

Joy to many you bring,

A land of wealth and beauty you are,

Great pride to many you stir;


Homeland to many tribes and nations,

Africans one bond that holds us, just to mention,

Loving one another whether from Tunis or Cape Town,

Proud and patriotic whether black or brown,


You own the Kilimanjaro and Cameroon mountains,

With the great geysers and spring fountains,

The great Victoria and Tanganyika all a wonder,

The Congo forest so green provide the splendor,


The beautiful coasts with sandy beaches tell the story,

The beautiful African culture lifts you to glory,

Said to be home to the early man,

And so the whole world you stern,


The great pyramid of Egypt have been scripted,

Africa indeed you are gifted,

Tea, Coffee and Cocoa you are the producer,

Let no one think you are a loser,


Mr. Lion  Cheetahs and  Leopard you tame so kindly,

The birds and fishes in the lake so mildly,

With the gold and diamonds enough as you have,

People so hospitable provide the love.


In the world of literature through Achebe you glare,

To mention Soyinka and Ngugi would only be fair,

Mandela and Nkuruma your sons to the world so dear,

Held in high esteem admiration and fear


The angelic tunes of Makeba you also hold,

The home of Etoo and Drogba am told,

The Chipolopolo and the Lions of Teranga also shine,

Africa you are first in the finishing line.




He looks at the spot,

The blazing sun so hot,

He’s sweating like a boiling pot,

In these days and times he’s caught

But where are the beautiful green trees?

Now replaced with the dust that makes him freeze,

He coughs and wishes he had the keys,

To go back to the past, that would please,


Another step, frail but he takes it,

He too has to eat,

Gone are the days he would lean and fit,

Or even when the young would stop, the old to great,


He takes a step curses and says, ha! They call it love,

The little public affections they think they deserve,

To him the “pumpers generation” do not have a nerve,

And the wrath of the gods they may have,


Another step, as he nods his head,

He would prefer to die instead

For it’s said that these days even the women rule in bed,

And bring home milk and bread,


Another step, was he also told about school?

That is where the young go to get the tools

To him they are just untamed bulls,

And he tries to avoid calling them fools.


 Grandpa takes another step, he members the great ones,

The likes of Lwanda the rock whom the heart of many  won,

And the tales of Simbi, Nyamgidho and Gor Mahia from which we learn,

And away we can never ran,


And with his final step, he asks to be buried with his fore fathers,

 As he knows it’s a curse to be  much further,

But will the young even bother?












You come in Shillings and Cents,

Dollars Pounds Francs to many you make sense,

Can be found in cheque or cash,

Women and men alike you make blush.


Money, cash they call you,

I guess you make the sky blue,

And the radiant sun you make shine,

Bring the food and wine to dine


For you many do steal,

In fact a few even kill,

Look at the night sister,

For you she takes the pain and blister


You make others gods so mighty,

And others loud so flighty,

There are those with the dirty nails,

And those who toil with pails


Ting tong! Even in church,

They look for you while sing and match,

Blessed are the ones who give

And I guess those who receive.


To the greedy you are never enough,

Those who have you laugh,

And say that life you do make easy,

But must say others you make very crazy


Your presence speak louder,

As you provide the success ladder

But after all is told they are still cold

Cause you are silver not gold.







Jungle blue,

In a deep green sea,

Where the birds will swim,

And the fish will fly,

Have you seen it?

The thieves get to parliament,

And the innocent fill the prisons,

Evil is praised,

And the good is condemned,


Jungle blue,

Have you seen it?

They kill in the name of peace,

Jihad they will call it,

And my other brothers,

Lie, steal and cheat,

Or is it preach?

In the name of the lord of course,

Hate in the name of love,

I bet you must have seen,

The dark daylight

And the bright night


Jungle blue,

Bitter honey,

And sweet bile,

John will marry James,

And Mary marry Anne,

I am sure you have seen them,

The lions graze

As the Antelope hunt

Achebe didn’t understand it,

But babies will be made,

When the women are on top,


Women will wear pants

And men dresses



Jungle blue,

Have you seen it?

We write from right to left,

Only that it’s not Arabic,

The sons will teach their fathers,

And daughter teach their mothers

Have you heard the music?

It isn’t about patriotism,

No longer about the green red, black and white,

It doesn’t condemn wrong,

Does it?

It’s mostly about sex alcohol and drugs,

Bending over,

And shaking certain parts of the body


Jungle blue,

In a deep green sea,

Where red means go,

And green means stop,

The moon in the day,

And the sun at night,

I am sure you have seen,

Schools awarded and students praised,

For cheating in exams,

Or is it,

Cheating without getting caught


Jungle blue,

Vegetation at the top,

And vultures at the bottom,

Of the food chain,

Did you hear the Minister?

She resigned because of health reasons,

Her doctor told her,

She was not healthy enough to continue stealing,

But at least she did resign right?


Jungle blue,

Christmas in June,

And gravity in the moon,

And soon we sing the tune,

Haven’t you seen it?

Ethnic intolerance and tribal war,

If we didn’t learn from the Hutu and the Tutsi,

I bet we should try,

Kikuyu versus Luo,

And see what happens,

Am sure it’s a good idea,

After all  we are out of the Hague,


Jungle blue,

I hear screams of joy,

And the laughter of sorrow,

The blind see,

And the deaf have heard,

I am sure you heard the story,

The man who made his teenage daughter pregnant,

And it is all fine,

I also heard this one,

Three men had a go at a nine months baby,

But still it didn’t shake us,

We are a jungle blue nation,

We take pride in poverty,

High rates of traffic Accidents,

Child trafficking

And sexual immorality


But who cares?

Where is Ngugi Wa Thiong’o

To write it down for us,

Where is Ken Walibora

Am sure he may make it better,

Or may we ask the lord to bring back,

Marjorie Oludhe,

Maybe we will see,

Or perhaps we could have borrowed,

Rugenda and Achebe,

But they too are gone

And so,

Who will save us/?










If only I had wings,

To fly I would only have to spring,

The wonders of this world would see,

Move from up the mountains and down the sea.


If only I would swim,

Like fish with my fins in the stream,

Bellow the waters would dwell,

The beautiful current would smell,


If only I would write,

The novels not just plays would Wright,

The world with my work would touch,

The likes of Shakespeare would match.


If only I could paint,

With the stroke of my brush so beautiful and faint,

The beautiful pieces of Monalisa would draw,

And with brush each day would grow.


If only I would sing,

To the micro phone would cling,

To sing with the voice so deep and soft,

And the crowd inspires the lift


If only I could mould,

With clay from the river so cold,

Many shapes the work of my hand would make,

And the credit of the beauty would take.


In life we are all gifted,

By   them, we are all lifted,

Take it slow,

In time it will all show.