city takes on country, country wins

I haven't blogged in a long time, though there has been lots going on I couldn't think what to write about. Blogger's block. Anyway I read these two poems ther other day and loved them so had to share them. They go nicely together, they are about this dual life that many Kenyans live with a life in the city but a rural home.
Every school holiday people pour out of Nairobi on buses and matatus heading for their upcountry, whichever direction it is. In the past, I've enjoyed the quiet roads of a not so bustling Nairobi at these times, but this year I got a chance to head upcountry too. Escaping city stress to quiet tree-covered hills is pretty sweet, welcomed by family with hot tea and warm hugs, basking on rocks in the sun, I started to understand a little why people love their upcountry homes and take any chance they get to go back. The first poem communicates the feeling better than I could. The second poem is not so nice, looking at someone making the first choice to move to the city, its sad but good, it has a fair bit of swahili in and I can't translate all of it but you get the gist! The poems are from www.kenyanpoet.blogspot.com
The return to home by joseph maina

From the noisy, polluted
City i
Hit the country road,
On a crowded old Toyota van,
Its dusty, rugged and bumpy.
Goats, chicken, ducks are
Also passengers,
I hang on to the vehicle frame
While my feet rest on a small
Metal bar
At outside and bottom of the
Vehicles door,
The friendliness of the people
Make me love to be home.

On the luggage I have,
My mother’s favorite kanga,
My father’s favorite cigarette,
My siblings’ favorite sweets
And balloons
And wheat flour for chapati
Their favorite dish
though a laborer in the city
I try to make them proud
Of their son.

The fresh air
The cool breeze
The friendliness of the people
The stories of my father
The adventure of my siblings
The caring of my mother and her meals
Their interest and eager in my city stories
The local brew
The village dance nights
The whistling of the birds
The bathing in rivers
The herding of cattle
The variety of food
Make me want to forget
City life.
All rights Reserved to the poet © joseph maina
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Promize by Simon Mbuthia

My dear, mpenzi
Amka, wake up
For the time has come
Ni wakati wa kuondoka
I hope you’ll understand
Na watoto pia
Teach them to forgive
Their father
Waambie, tell them
That I had to go.

Tell them of my dreams
The places I’ve yearned for
Natumaini they’ll understand
And coax
Their little souls
Kunisamehe tafadhali.

Especially yule mtoto
The little inquisitive one
I know she’ll ask
Maswali chungu nzima
Tell her I’ve gone to the city
Kutafuta unga
And she shouldn’t be silly
Tell her machozi
Will not help anything
Nitamletea viatu vya ngozi.

Tell the children
Not to be fools
That waende shule
They should go to school
Not to follow the footsteps
Of their fugitive father
And tell them
When they make
Their imploring bed-side prayers
Wamuombee daddy
Wherever he is
In the atrocious world.

And don’t forget
To tell them this
Katika ndoto zao
To include me in their dreams
And hope always
That I’ll come one day
Siku moja nitarudi
To show them
My old grey beard.

My dear, mpenzi
Amka, wake up
And open the door
Before their rumbling stomachs
Like ngurumo za radi
Wakes them up and
They stretch their scrawny hands
And demand chakula
And torture my soul
Kuumiza roho yangu
With their empty gazes
Wake up fast
For it’s time to go
Ni wakati wa kuondoka.

All rights Reserved to the poet ©Simon Mbuthia