Am not quite as old as you are already thinking I am,
but I do act like am older than anyone can fathom.
what brings me here today is my story about the 80's.
back then i was masculine and hairy,
body seldom bathed and shaved rarely
it was then that i worked hard literally,
'cause that was not a choice but some form of itinerary,
you either went through it, or went through it,
we had no ploughs nor cows so we had to bow,
with sticks as hoes digging shallow holes on the ground.
readying the earth for sowing so we could reap in the end
my dreams of an education had long been shuttered
with every plan that i had made having been blundered
stepped on, spat on and ridiculed by king kanda,
owner of the biggest known kibanda
He told me that my dreams were unrealistic
he changed my mind and made me pessimistic
about the hope, the dreams, anything futuristic
I lost it, the drive to become better
and follow my dreams to the letter
because everything i did ended up in a gutter
draining to places i couldn't even reach it later
I wrote a letter to the chief hoping that he would change my life for the better
but all i got was a bigger acre of land to work on.
getting paid something close to peanuts
a case of so much pain with no gain
I hated the election period 'cause it was simply a waste of time
where the resident president had us queuing for days simply to confirm his obvious return to the state house
the media called it the presidential race
but really it was just a trace, the same face same place........to be continued