Wanjohi. P. Mugambi
I bring you the cries of the departed
Mighty and louder they have become
Not letting the living to rest
Filled with agony and bitterness
They cry
Crying day in, midnight and when night falls
They are louder and require to be heard
The cries
Cries of the departed
Not everyone cries
The cries belong to the few that died
Died in an execution i may say
Execution caused by our political differences
Yet their time wasn’t over yet
But the slash of that panga found them
Declaring them dead
They cry
Crying yet nothing can bring them back
Louder they cry because we never learnt
The cries
Cries of the departed
Another group cries
Crying yet asking themselves to be queit
How? How can this possibly be
Yes they ask their voices to shut
Because they died of hunger in a fruitful nation
They are embarassed to even cry
How could the nation betray its own
Leaving them dead yet food was plenty to others
They cry
Abadoned to cry but pleading themselves to be silent
The cries
Cries of the departed
Other cry out of what they see
Departed but for them they left
Crying for the souls of the living
From the pullpit to the mud-house
From the clergy to the begger
From counsel to the mayor
From the ruler to the ruled
Nothing seems to have changed
Theye cry
Crying to see can the tears change
Unfortunately not
The cries
Cries of the departed
Wanjohi. P. Mugambi
Weeping Onion
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