By the word I took a chance,

For the word I liked her from a glance,

Asked for a dance,

And promised her a date to Paris in France,


By the word I saw her eyes so bright,

For the word I held her in my arm so tight,

With the world I felt so right,

And smiled with delight,

It is the word that at times rewards,

It is the word of all words,

But many times it hurts inwards,


By the word I felt her lips on mine,

For the word by with me she agreed to dine

With the words that night she looked so fine,


By the word forever I would serve,

For the word it’s her I deserve,

For the word is love.



Flower in my yard (2016)

As a beautiful flower in the yard,

I saw you sprout so beautifully,

Like a beautiful flower,

I saw your petal glow,

Slowly I watched you come to life,

Yet today you tell me am just a boy,

Not man enough for you,

As you run with the big dogs,

The ones with the big cars


As a little flower in the yard,

I protected you with love,

I cared for you,

With my little air water and warmth,

Now that you have grown so beautifully,

And they see you walking down the street,

You see me as just a gardener,

You have told them that am just a friend

As you roll with the big dogs,

The ones with the big money


As a flower in the yard,

I took off the weeds,

And gave you the needs

With the little I had,

I took you to school,

As I saw the person in you,

But today you tell me to go away,

And mind my business,

As you roll with the big dogs,

The ones with the big bungalows



I can only be sad,

And say goodbye,

For my flower in the yard,

As unknown to you,

Someday the petals will fall off,

And you will dry out

But what kind of fruit will you make?

Now that she is rolling with the big dogs

The ones who fly in choppers,

And dine in fancy places,

Can only wish you the best,

My once pretty flower in the yard

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/