Mar 142012

by Kenneth Olembo


They say that Africans,

Will have to fight for a place on the bus,


So I am pulling out all the stops.


I am burning incense and,

Turning out closets,

-exorcising demons-


I am fumigating my life,

Throwing out old clothes and,

Trying to gain favour,


-surely children were not meant for the streets,

Nor nations meant for war-


I have found sack cloth and ash and,

I intend to,

Gouge flesh with home-made irons

Flagellate until I bleed sin,

All over the carpet.


There will be gnashing of teeth,

And great wailing,

-effort must be made-


I shall identify,

Church pews with nails and,



But the spotlight keeps missing me,

And I manage only to elicit,

Splendid chuckles from my nephew.