Norman Mwale [The PenPusher]
When l was a little boy,
Father taught me how to carve artefacts
From the dusty soap-rock we collected Many miles away from home,
How to simulate the weaverbird
By interlacing the beautiful buskets From the thin reeds,
How to make gourds from dry pod shells Which he proclaimed
As gourds of African consciousness,
From where life realisms shall be Slaked,
How to bury seed in the black soils
And reap in foretold shadow days,
How to swim in the muddied ponds
And catch the muddyfish to fight for the Belly,
He indeed taught me the skills of real Life,
Poising for proper humanness,
Foretelling how a man should survive
In seasons aheard of winter,
Ensuring of a dawn that would spud to Fruition with pragmatic realities
Of no intellectual hypothesis of doomsday.
It is at this stage of this profanity;
This iron age, with no mass destructions, Instead mass instructions,
Where passers-by circularize crazy Doctrines from Academic schoolhouses As decoys
To barrow through human brainpan and Polute through various theories
That eat up a race like a cancer of the Breast,
Possibilities that teach the mental psyche How to bury seed and harvest goose-egg Through imaginary world,
ln these destitute enviros of academic Knowledge,
Where practice doesn’t predominate in Their Schools of harebrained theories!
Similar Posts by The Mount Kenya Times:
- Mt Kenya Times ePAPER November 14-15, 2026
- Sifuna’s party rebrands to Linda Mwananchi
- Ruto gathers Nairobi’s broad-based leaders at State House to accelerate housing, roads and markets
- Ruto commits to KSh38.7B Kiambu Road dualling and new Nairobi-Thika Expressway
- Khaminwa to receive Kenya’s historic first honorary degree from Kaimosi Friends University
