Are you an angel?

Did you watch the news last week?
Did you listen to them yesterday?
Look out for them today
I read them in the morning
My pal tells me they are similar even now.

I am not talking about the MPs’ salary increment, no!
I am not insinuating the Kibaki’s succession politics, no!
I am not pointing out Gor’s victory over AFC, no!
I am concerned about a certain infant in Daadab,
Desperately breast feeding on his dead mother.

Did you see the pain in his eyes?
Did you feel the agony over his soul?
Did you hear him sob?
Did you?
Did he talk to you?
He whispered to me.

He looked at me with those innocent eyes
His face a mask of formidable anguish
Obviously overwhelmed but fighting still
Somberly helpless but hopeful still
He scaringly looked at me
And hoarsely whispered to me
In a weak meek dry voice

“When I can cry and wail no more
When I can shout and sob no more
When I can moan and groan no more
My mouth dry; my tear glands empty
I will sit still
Listen to the rumbles from my stomach
Pray for an angel from the God who created me

When I can run or walk no more
When I can talk or whisper no more
My legs feeble; my vision blurry
When I can hold on to this breast no more
I will stay still
Listen to the rumbles from my stomach
Pray for an angel from the God who created me

When I can bury my friends no more
When it’ll come that I can handle it no more
When my body can contain my soul n o more
And I slowly follow my mother
I will lie still
Wait for when stomachs will rumble no more         
Embrace the angel of Death from the God who created me”

“So are you an angel?” he asked.