Dear Molly. How are you? As always, I hope
you are well. You know, there is something about you, something that made me
inspire for better. Was it that rich smokers’ laughter of yours? The daring
twinkle that flashed in your eyes when you were angry? The tight curl in your
lips when you were about to lash out?
Anyway, Molly, I continue with my business
training. I am now thinking of business as warfare – the honourable kind of
warfare; chivalry, observing the rules… not the Machiavellian 48-Laws-of-Power
warfare where there is no honour, but only winning. Politics of deceit, our
president calls it.
Well, these past couple of days have been
chilly… a precursor to June’s biting cold? Anyway, I am more often sad than
happy during the cold months of June and July. I totally blame this on Sam
Kahiga’s short story, ‘The Last Breath’ – if my memory serves me right. Off the
‘Encounters from Africa’ anthology. There is a way he made June and July sad.
Pretty much like you wouldn’t tail a truck, as a motorist, carrying logs – ‘The
Final Destination’ movie series.
Molly, I think it’s the loneliness talking.
Maybe, I should turn porcupine and hibernate, emerge with the August sun. Thinking
of – do porcupines hibernate? A constant supply of coffee would do instead.
Then again, coffee isn’t sweet anymore since I stopped talking sugar. A
musician friend of mine says it is bad for the voice. Since I intend to record
in the near future, I substituted sugar for lemon…
My mind wanders off… As the cold season
saunters in, how grievous Gen. Ogolla’s – recently demised - widow hurts. I am
now thinking of political assassinations in the country. What would our country
be like now if these lives were allowed to realise their full potential? In my
own way, I honour them (listen to the message, not the bad singing):
Mashujaa
Waliotuacha
Majina mengi – Saitoti, Muge, Muthiora
Rafiki Ojode, walimpooza Matiba
Ouko angezitimiza zetu ndoto
Pio Gama tofauti wa nchi mkondo.
Miaka, miongo,
siku zimepita
Na bado hatuna furaha, twalia
Wa taifa mashujaa waliotuacha
Mauti yao kweli ya kutatanisha.
Oscar King’ara mtetezi wa haki
Daktari Mbai fundi wa ugatuzi
Tom Mboya aliyekosa mpinzani
Sifa tele huyu JM Kariuki.
Kimathi kisingizio hawajui kaburi
Vijana wakombozi waliitwa Mungiki
Huruma kosa walioshwa na mauti
Mazimwi yatukulayo hayashibi.
Hayupo Jemedari Francis Ogolla
Maswali mengi nani atatujibu Karumba
Mauaji ya halaiki pale Wagalla
Baby Pendo, Msando mlale salama.
Arwings Kodhek zaidi ya barabara
Masinde, Ngala nani watawajibika
Andungosi Nduthu tusisahau yao majina
Nyekundu ilitapika viwiliwili Mto Yala.
Twawalia waliotutangulia wetu mashujaa
Vifo vyao tatanishi hatujaelewa
Ardhini damu yao bado changa
Bila kwaheri ghafla walizima.
(Our
Departed Heroes)
We call them – Saitoti, Muge, Muthiora
Our friend Ojode, they paralysed Matiba
Ouko -the fulfilment of our dreams
Pio Gama – the canoe to prosperity.
Years, decades, days
– to nothing faded
And still, joyless, we weep
For our heroes departed
Perplexing, their demise.
Oscar King’ara – agitated for our rights
Dr. Mbai – devolution, were we gifted
Tom Mboya – without peer, the man
JM Kariuki – the man at one with the people.
How they taunt us – of Kimathi’s resting
place
Mungiki – young freedom fighters labelled
In bloodbath – mercilessly swept away
Without fill, we are easy meal for the ogres.
The General Francis Ogolla, he is no more
Questions abound – who answers Karumba
We remember the Wagalla Massacre
Baby pendo, Msando – sleep in forever power.
More than a city lane – Arwings Kodhek
Masinde, Ngala – whose responsibility
Etched the sweet names – Andungosi, Nduthu
Scarlet, River Yala vomits corpses.
We lament of heroes who went before us
Their deaths, not of the Creator’s making
Their veins emptied, they warm the earth
No goodbyes, their lights switched off.
Dear Molly, I have to go now… about the
translation? Well, moving from one language to another is always tricky… how to
carry along the idioms, the nuances… maybe, a linguist can do better. Anyway,
may you always observe ethics in your business dealings.
Yours in business mores,
Sant Mark
Please support my art by buying my book through
this link: https://nuriakenya.com/product/a-funeral-dress-for-nyasuguta-by-mark-mwangi/
Thanks.
Dismembered,
They Will Be Remembered
What if… would we have more EQUALITY!
Scars that won’t fade
Wounds deep, they still bleed, they still
hurt
Their names grace, graze & dance on our
lips.
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