Hope

Flabby and weak
Old and sick
Back bent
Slow faltering gait
The ills of age
Tales of burdens borne
He stood there before me
Before my very eyes

There were too many thoughts for my mind to contain
Too many much cacophony for my ears to withstand
Too many grotesque images for my eyes to stomach
Too much emotion for my heart to sustain
Too many words for my mouth to fully utter
For the choice less voiceless hopeless and helpless
The slaves in a free country, landless in their own land
But he stood before me
Sparkles in his eyes a story of hope

In the hoarse words of an old man lies wisdom
Just as his wrinkles is a tale of fortitude
He spoke to me
Slowly; each word calculated
“They can steal money from you, but they can’t steal your heart
They can deny you peace, but they can’t deny you your soul
They take away your life, but they can’t take away your ideas
And at the end justice will stand for each and every injustice done”

I looked at him
Gracefully aged but his presence still powerful
Charisma and respect still bending before his grey hair
I looked at him
And he looked back at me
Then smiled that encouraging gorgeous smile
The same one that got Evelyn, Winnie, Graca love stuck

I looked at him
And an aura of hope drowned my anguish
Hope of a time when citizens will die of hunger no more
Hope of a time when ghettos will face Sinai slums scenario no more
Hope of a time when money scandals will be no more
Hope of when it’ll no more be Kenyans for Kenya but Kenya for Kenya
I looked at him
And all I saw in his face was hope
That night when I dreamt with Mandela