Carol Nderitu: Poetry

Poetry: Police Torture

VICTIMS OF TORTURE!!! Why do policemen beat so indiscriminately and unprofessionally? Oh, defending themselves from peace loving unarmed civilians? Does it have to be in a manner of such terrible brutality? Rigging of elections, killing of civilians, beating demonstrators, suppressing of media, threats and extra judicial assassinations! Who will protect the innocent lot? Does it feel powerful to act in disregard of morality and law, Men, women and children always on the run, Feeling to the law some are above and some below, Who will come to the rescue of the ordinary Kenyan? How can a police loot in disguised name of searching? Beat, injure kill and go scot-free? Who will see the plight of children still crying? Restoring order-using firearms is one allegation they will never admit to see. Women and elderly are beaten live on camera, No wonder police recruitment is based on height, Colonization cases which are so gone an era! Behaving to satisfy your sa...

Poetry: SLAVES

Slaves It is because you don’t see me, You don’t value me, I try to see, But your wrath blinds me, I cry for help from up above, But your supremacy and authority chain me, My children are hungry and almost to die, But you have taken away my wife, You have made their nurse a sex slave, I’m around just waiting for the next stage, The separation of my children when my smile shall fade. You have neither compassion nor a heart, You disregard I have blood that runs my heart, Yet you call me an ape from the forest, But I honestly think you are shoddier than that, You are neither a monster nor a heartless beast, I have tried to understand your impact on my fate, My wife is aghast by the portion of life, My children bewildered throughout the murky and the night, Their lives shall shrivel once I get into this boat, I will never lay my eyes on my family, I will have to toil and get trodden dearly, I just hope that my gods are watching carefully,...

For the Dream of 5 Years: Chapter Ten: The Dark City

Dave waited to see how the public would receive the outcome of the tally. He knew that if anyone were the first to react, they would be from the city, the aggrieved, the determined for a revolution, the Daves. He was surprised how people could steal so plainly and openly without hiding a thing. There was a lot of noise in the neighbourhood, almost deafening sounds of people chanting with excitement, hundreds of footsteps, maybe thousands, moving with joy, songs, and dancing. They seemed to have come from one side of the neighbourhood moving to the other, with vuvuzelas, drums, and singing to the name 'Freeman. They praised God’s appointment and his father for bringing forth a king. They were happy. Another group screamed, cursed, and hurled anything they could find on their way towards the Statehouse, towards those that seemed happy, throwing stones at the buildings, vehicles, and anyone. Another group was armed heavily, in uniform and helmets, holding shields and hurling tear ga...

Caroline W. Nderitu

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