The Mt Kenya Times 
Evans Asikoyo, the poet
In the heart of the land where the sun kisses soil,
Where dreams are planted through sweat and toil,
Lies a classroom dusty, dimly lit…
Where knowledge and hope silently sit.
The teacher stands with chalk in hand,
A lone crusader in a promised land.
But desks are broken, books are few,
And uniforms fade from red to blue.
The bell still rings, the children come,
Barefoot steps beat like a drum.
Their eyes hold questions, deep and wide…
Of futures yet to be supplied.
Curriculums change like seasons’ tide,
Yet purpose and vision seem to hide.
What good are tests and endless grades,
When hunger and fees dim learning’s shades?
Digital dreams are sung in song,
But rural schools still wait too long.
For screens that glow and nets that bind
A global village to every mind.
We speak of value, speak of pride,
But do we walk the talk, or hide?
A nation’s soul is carved and cast
In every lesson from its past.
Yet still, amid the cracks and flaws,
Education fights with noble cause.
The pen remains a mightier tool…
In every child, in every school.
So rise, O leaders, take your part,
Invest in minds, ignite the heart.
For nations fall or nations grow,
Where books are opened…
So minds may glow.
Evans (the poet)
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