YACHAPISHIWE VITABU

YACHAPISHIWE VITABU

Ninabisha ukumbini, mkarimu mhariri,
Nitoe ya fikirani, kwa watu walo mahiri,
Ajitose mhisani, mashairi kuhariri,
Yachapishiwe vitabu, mashairi yenye sifa.

Tujitokeze watunzi, wengi tuwe bustani,
Tutoe wetu ujuzi, wa hekima nazo fani,
Tuondoe ya upuzi, tuandike ya maanani,
Yachapishiwe vitabu, mashairi yenye sifa.

Ajitoshe mhisani, mashairi kuhariri,
Atazame ukumbini, akusanye mashairi,
Yalo mazito yakini, ya malenga wajasiri,
Yachapishiwe vitabu, mashairi yenye sifa.

Wariri wa magazeti, utukufu walojawa,
Wanafasihi tisti, wajuzi wenye vipawa,
Naomba mjizatiti, taji hili kutunukwa,
Yachapishiwe vitabu, mashairi yenye sifa.

Washairi wenye fani, kazi zao zaririwe,
Nalikha na Jini Geni, Chokoliti watawazwe,
Naye binti wa Ironi, Jogoo wabarikiwe,
Yachapishiwe vitabu, mashairi yenye sifa.

Mbogoli na Chipukizi, pate jinale huko,
Wa pwani naye Chetezi, lako nalo liweko,
Pamoja na Mganguzi, wote wayapate huko,
Yachapishiwe vitabu, mashairi yenye sifa.

Na jarida litolewe, lilojawa mashairi,
Na watunzi lichangiwe, ndiyo lipate kunawiri,
Kwa wote linunuliwe, na wapenda mashairi,
Yachapishiwe vitabu, mashairi yenye sifa.

Jarida la mashairi, wote kulikimbilia,
Litukuke kwa uzuri, heri ninalitakia,
Yafanyeni mashauri, haya kuyaangalia,
Yachapishiwe vitabu, mashairi yenye sifa.

Naaga kwa tabasamu, nikiwa na tumaini,
Kabla ya huu msimu, tatokea mhisani,
Mwenye huo ukarimu, mwaminifu maishani,
Achapishie vitabu, mashairi yenye sifa.

© Tabu Bin Tabu 2009

CHILD LABOUR

CHILD LABOUR

Children are God’s given gift
To us they come to bless
Why do you neglect them?
Why do you subject them
To unwarranted suffering,
To pain day in day out?
Why do you waste their potential?
Stop child labour.

As dawn approaches
The horizon gives birth
The sun stretches its long golden hands
Eating the carpet of dew
Into sheer nothingness

A new day
Full of expectations and hope
For a poor African child
Born to suffer
Brought up to persevere
But getting nothing in return
Nothing

John takes the cows to the river
Jane prepares the liver
John collects firewood
Jane prepares the food
Do this!! Do that!!
Are the commands
From the very parents mouth
From east or south
Real or adapted
This is what they say.

Jane and John
In pain and no gain
While the age is tender
Are out of school to work
Oblivious of whale and shark
Regardless of will and like

In coffee and tea plantations
In the sculpture and bricks excavations
In miraa and rice harvesting
Under the scorching rays of the sun

John seats in a busy street
“chai! Papa! Mama!
He says
He runs through intense traffic jam
Threatening with stinking human waste
For somebody to throw a coin

Half naked but not sorry for it
Jane joins in
Up and down Koinange Street
Selling her body to strangers
Just for money
I say for money.

Before the chest shows up
Jane is already married
Sold to a stinking old grandpa
For the father to get bride wealth.
In utter disregard
Of Jane’s human rights

Children need care
Education is their core
Stop child labour

© Tabu Bin Tabu 2009

MALENGA STADI NI YUPI?

MALENGA STADI NI YUPI?

Mhariri mhisani, naingia hima hima,
Ninabisha ofisini, ili machache kusema,
Yananidunda bongoni, ndipo nataka kuzima,
Malenga stadi ni yupi, mwenye sifa kutunukwa.

Nawaza na kuwazuwa, nisone pa kutuliya,
Ndipo nataka kujuwa, kutoka kwako mamiya,
Jawabu sijapatiwa, nazidi kilingojea,
Malenga stadi ni yupi, mwenye sifa kutunukwa.

Malenga alo stadi, namhitaji hakika,
Nijue wake ufundi, ni wapi unapotoka,
Ujuzi wake zaidi, lomfanya kutukuka,
Malenga stadi ni yupi, mwenye sifa kutunukwa.

Ni majazi au nini, malenga anotumiya
Ufasaha wa makini, na semi anazotiya,
Lahaja za Kisauni, msamiati anotiya,
Malenga stadi ni yupi, mwenye sifa kutunukwa.

Ni wa miaka ujuzi, au shahada kaitimu,
Ni talanta ya mwenyezi, au ni yake Kasimu,
Ni wa kurithi ujuzi, au ni wa kulazimu,
Malenga stadi ni yupi, mwenye sifa kutunukwa.

Ni wa jadi kuchangia, kwa ujuzi na hekima,
Ubeti hupangilia, ujumbe mwenye uzima,
Mtiririrko waingia, na muwala kuandama,
Malenga stadi ni yupi, mwenye sifa kutunukwa.

Mlumbi mwenye heshima, asiye nao utusi,
Asiye nayo hujuma, ama ulafi wa fisi,
Mwenye pabaya kuzima, mtu aso wasiwasi,
Malenga stadi ni yupi, mwenye sifa kutunukwa.

Natulia tuli tuli, nikimuaga edita,
Naliacha hili swali, majibu nayatafuta,
Unijibu kwa ukweli, niweze kuyafuata,
Malenga stadi ni yupi, mwenye sifa kutunukwa.

© Tabu Bin Tabu 2009

DUNIA

DUNIA

Dunia mti mkavu, usio nao uhai,
Dunia ina ukavu, wa asali na mayai,
Dunia sio tulivu, kwa pepo za matilai,
Dunia kweli hadaa, tena nayo ni shujaa.

Dunia ni msumeno yakata mbele na nyuma,
Dunia ni mapambano, kwa wanyonge na wazima,
Dunia msongamano, usio pa kusimama,
Dunia kweli hadaa, tena nayo ni shujaa.

Dunia mapambazuko, ya maua kuchanua,
Dunia msukosuko, wa maua kunyaua,
Dunia huwa maziko, matumaini yaua,
Dunia kweli hadaa, tena nayo ni shujaa.

Dunia yakuliwaza, kwa chema kukupatia,
Dunia itakuliza, mchanga kukutilia,
Dunia yakupongeza, adhabu kukupatia,
Dunia kweli hadaa, tena nayo ni shujaa.

Dunia yakuhitaji, kule juu kukutwika,
Dunia ina kipaji, kukufanya malaika,
Dunia takuvika taji, kabla hujaanguka,
Dunia kweli hadaa, tena nayo ni shujaa.

Dunia katahadhari, ukiwa nacho tuliza,
Dunia huwa ni siri, yajayo hutayaweza,
Dunia huwa kaburi, kizuzuka takumeza,
Dunia kweli hadaa, tena nayo ni shujaa.

© Tabu Bin Tabu 2009

A MAN

A MAN

A Man
Is made up of
One intellectual
Property; his upstairs
In a cave like structure
Proportionally suspended
Like a rock pure with gold
Network of electric connect
Filled up to the brim with oil
In underground tunnels of pail
Plantations of forests without
Small grinding stones within
Conveyer belt lies beneath
A gate of furnace opens
Couple antennas rise
Binoculars aside
Hung
Yes
Heavily built tones of framework
Holds together in either side the fork
Pushing quick pumping pulling
Lifting the mighty store holding
Left centre that holds right
Feel processing factory shake
Tie fill the unfilled dam do
Peace comes in giving
Strong and heavy duty
Take a stride the pride owner
With the gift mercy enough
Move weight beyond the path
Holds tight ground below
Flee attack save the king
The kick break neck
Mark stick
Park duck
Man fun

KITHOMO a Kimeru poem

KÎTHOMO NÎ GANTÛ

Îgita rîa tene gûtarî na kîthomo kîa mauku
Îndî chomba îkwîja nî yaretere kîthomo
Muntû urîa wathomaga atarî na îgweta
Eeragwa nî ndemi
Îndi nî we wagîîre ûûme na ûtonga.

Îgwe mwanokwa thikîîra kîthomo nî gantû
Thingata kîthomo mwanka mûthia

Tene kîthomo neka gîakinanagîîrua
Muntû akaewa chumbî, mûtu o na nguû
Ûjû nî ta kuuga muntû kerencagîîrwa ûûme na ûtonga.

Îgwe mwanokwa thikîîra,
Tûkîathagwa nî chomba rî, gûtî wonaga werû,
Athomi nobo babwonere.
Baragîa ûûme bwa kurûîra ûciathi
Na nyumene tûrenga chomba.

Tûkwona ûciathi nî barîa bathomete bonere ngûgî
Barambîrîria kwatha thirikarîîne
Bamwe baraa aritani na bangî dagitarî
Baragîa îgweta nîûntû bwa kîthomo akî.

Mwanokwa itegere wone
Antû kabakûthithia komputa, na ndege îgwîtîra matune,
Bakathithia mîtakaa na gwitia mwerine na roketi
Gûtî kîngî gî gûtûma nî kîthomo akî.

Îgwe mwanokwa, ukeenda kûriita ûrîa twariti
Wîja kûrega kûthoma, îtû wîja kûûra ûtheri
Jûkia rûûjî ûthaambe, ûthingate bangî bûkathome
Ûgwate ndigirigi kana diploma ûkae mûnene

Mwanokwa nandî ngûkûra, imbonete jamaingî
Ntîna kamunda ga kûbûng’ana bwinthe
îtu kethîrwa nî ndaîjî, ndîngîthoma ngatûûra bwega
îtû kandeendere, gûtîîthîrwa nî ndaijî Mûrungu.

© Tabu Bin Tabu

TOO OLD OR TOO YOUNG

TOO OLD OR TOO YOUNG

My name is Tabu Bin Tabu. I was born and brought up near the Eastern slopes of Mount Kenya. If you are asking about the year I was born, I am sorry I won’t tell you. It’s not long ago. It is only yesterday. That time when there was a draught like the one we are experiencing. When money was scarce in peoples pockets. When rain had ceased for three or more years. Jobs were not there any more.

If you want to know more ask my mother Sabera. She will tell you I am not old enough to take care of myself. When she lastly came to my place one year ago, she had a better idea about nearly everything. The position of the couch, the colour of the table cloths, the type of meals to be prepared. She informed me to take good care of my money and I should not invest in the pyramid schemes. I did not oppose. I was afraid of the argument that my views could elicit. I was not bitter though. I was happy that somebody had told me that I was young. Something I wanted to hear.

If you are not satisfied with what mother told you about my age, ask my father Marete. He keeps a diary with all those important dates. He will tell you that the dust has not settled since I got circumcised. I have been asking him to subdivide our land to us. He told us that since we are so young to be able to keep Title Deeds, he can only show us were to construct our houses for the time being. He would continue to cultivate the land to allow us some time to grow. It’s Just the other day that I convinced him to give me my form four certificate. It was kept inside a small wooden box under his bed.

My mother had asked to be given my class eight certificate so that she can take it to a friend who could offer me a job in a small hotel in town. She had folded it several times and tied it at one Conner of her leso. It took a lot of beseeching before being allowed to have it. I lied to her that a friend had offered me a better job if I presented the paper to him. She had told me to return it soon after seeing the man. After some thinking I returned a photocopy which she kept safe.

Last weeks incidence left me with no words. I was in town doing some window shopping. I did not know exactly what I was interested in. Everything seemed to be very beautiful. Clothes, electronic gadgets, even the beautiful girls attending to customers. You could bargain and bargain even when you have no cent in the pocket. Only to listen to their beautiful voices and professional language. Even window shopping them was okay.

I stared at one shop to another. Moving to and fro used all my energies and I started yawning. I approached a fat lady who was passing by and asked her what time it was. “Two p.m.!” she replied. I thought it was a good idea to have a bite at a Nyama Choma joint in the bus park.

I ordered three pieces of meat, ugali and mala. This time I wanted to take a break from the usual kagoto (the ballast). Roasted remains of a dead cow could be tasty. I thought. I had sat at a corner opposite the door. I could see the touts asking customers to board their matatus, passages getting in and others leaving the park. In some minutes time I was through. I stood and approached the counter to pay. The cashier called the waiter and asked him how much I should pay. “mzee amekula so moja” (The old man had a bill of a hundred shillings). This statement caught me off guard. “nani unaita mzee? Huoni mimi si mzee ni nguo zimezeeka?” I complained. (Who are you calling an old man? You are confusing my age to that of my clothes). “You people have no manners these days. If you think that I am old why don’t you cut the old part and throw it away!!! Look at yourself, you and me who is older?” I bellowed angrily. The waiter kept quiet.

I turned to look at the other patrons seated at the hotel. All of them were looking at us. I overheard one say: “mwangalie huyu mzee anayefikiria ni under 18. Hee heee heeee!!!” (Look at this old man who thinks that he is under 18 years of age). I hurriedly paid up and left dejected.

I had to consult some people asking them if really I looked as old as implied by my enemies. “You are not growing any younger. A wife and two kids make the matter worse.” One of them commented. Look at your pot berry! Do you think a young man has eaten enough to fill a protruding stomach?” the other one had said. They seemed to have been bought by my enemies.

I took time to look at myself. My abdomen made me look as if I was seven months pregnant. That night I did not sleep. I kept waking up and thinking so had why I allowed myself to get old before being a leader. These people did not realize that having a big stomach is a sign of overeating and not old age.

In my church I am called a youth. When looking for a job I am told I lack experience. Where will I get experience without getting employed? It’s like telling a person not to taste the pudding because he has never tasted one. The little English I know tells me the pudding is in the eating.

In 2007 I wanted to vie for the councillorship at our local location. My political enemies decided to politicize it saying, “You young people are leaders of tomorrow. Wait for your turn.” We have waited and waited. When is tomorrow? When will tomorrow be today? When tomorrow becomes today there is always another tomorrow.

Now I have discovered that old is the tool my enemies are using so that I cannot have a good time. The other enemies are using young to prevent me from leading. Please tell me. Am I young to lead or too old and worn-out?

© Tabu Bin Tabu 2009

COMMON SENSE

COMMON SENSE

Ye
Come,
Look at me
Do you see my
Invitingly set eyes?
Feel the heat of my heart,
Hear the flow of the blood
Smell the scent of my breath
En taste the sweetness of my sweat
Use all your sweet five senses
But; please I beg of you
Evade common sense
It’s not common
If you use it,
A portion
Stop
Ye

I
I know
I have heard
Not once, not twice
Many times I have noticed
If you see, you want to see more
When you touch, you tend to adore
As you smell, you close in to the shore
But I say common is not the common sense
Those who possesses it messes with it
Those who want to use it misses it
It is a rare commodity in town
It can pull people down
In sweetest dreams
They drown
I know
I

© Tabu Bin Tabu 2009

NAJITOKEZA KWA VYOTE

NAJITOKEZA KWA VYOTE

Najitokeza wenzangu, edita kunipokea,
Nitowe kipawa changu, wasomi kuwatolea,
Yazunguke ulimwengu, nitakayowelezea,
Najitokeza kwa vyote, kwa fani ya ushairi.

Nitowe wangu ujuzi, wa urari na maana,
Nivume kama wapenzi, watunzi waliofana,
Nelee kama jahazi, mwisho nipate hazina,
Najitokeza kwa vyote, kwa fani ya ushairi.

Nilikuwa mwanafunzi, nkikazana masomoni,
Nilikuwa chipukizi, kwa fani na ukumbini,
Nikaona uazizi, kuchangia bustani,
Najitokeza kwa vyote, kwa fani ya ushairi.

Niruhusu editari, unichape bustani,
Kwa wema nitafakari, kama dau baharini,
Nipate kuwa mahiri, ja joka na Jini Geni,
Najitokeza kwa vyote, kwa fani ya ushairi.

Sasa mimi ni malenga, anayejitegemea,
Beti zangu nazipanga, wazo langu kutolea,
Na wengine najiunga, ili utunzi kulea,
Najitokeza kwa vyote, kwa fani ya ushairi.

Ntashiriki ulumbini, nina maswali mapana,
Mawazo yaso kifani, ya hekima na maana,
Kwa ufundi na makini, tweeze kushirikiana,
Najitokeza kwa vyote, kwa fani ya ushairi.

Nipokee mhariri, nakuvulia kofia,
Nipokeni washairi, pole ninawafikia,
Kwa sasa ni ya kwaheri, kaditamati natia,
Najitokeza kwa vyote, kwa fani ya ushairi.

© Tabu Bin Tabu 2009

A SLIP OF THE MIND

A SLIP OF THE MIND

You will have an opportunity to read this article, “A slip of the mind.” I am sorry for eating a lot of chopped yams in form of kagoto (ballast) and forgot that I had readers who eagerly want to read from me. We enjoyed boiled yams on Kenyatta and Moi days instead of imported worms you call rice or the roasted or boiled red remains of a dead animal.

On this side of the globe we advocate for the rights of the animals and mass killings slipped our minds. My grandfather is one of those people who call themselves protectors of animals who can’t entertain anybody who jokes around with the preserved deer you call goats. The draught is not yet over but he can’t part with his skinny animals for money. Even when some neighbouring cattle rustlers threaten to flee with the whole heard.

Maybe we have few or we don’t have the endangered type of birds you call chicken and we can easily mistake a dog for a goat so the mountain of kagoto did better in our stomachs and climbing it from the top made us sing with joy and satisfaction. We are not the type who enjoyed taking fermented waters of River Distiller. This type of water makes some of us behave as if they are victims of swine flu. When they tell you that they will chop your hand for you, you find it on the ground.

Therefore I beg your pardon for not communicating through this forum. I have been digesting all this stuff from the slopes. you know we are ruminant animals. We keep on chewing the cud non stop. We are of the philosophy to chew and chew and when we get tired of it we chew again. I read from somewhere that a man can’t think and chew at the same time. Therefore, first things first.

Being a product of the slopes I have discovered that I am growing taller and taller. May be I am not a type of breed you call cross-breed or hybrid because I was planted in the slopes and I have never been transplanted elsewhere. Grafting or cloning has never been done on my body. I might be one of those indigenous type you call zebu although my height leaves me with suspicion.

My friends tell me that those zebus which are grown near the waters flourish and gain a lot of weight and never wither. For if the sower of the seeds had found it wise not to throw me near the lake or river. I have no objection of him throwing me on those spotted rocks of the slopes. The sower was aware that my roots would penetrate the snowy rocks with a lot of ease. Some people think that those people from the slopes who have planted the precious tree they call miraa are very tall like giraffes to be able to pick and chew the twigs while standing. If so corrections will be in order.

If my mind doesn’t slip on this issue I cannot exhaust it without referring to the little science that I can recall. You know that it is rare to see the sun over the slopes? Therefore, when I started to germinate I found myself rushing upwards to see if I could visit the sun one day. In the chilling cold of the slopes you have an advantage of reaching to the sun if you had no defects. I thought that if I reach somewhere it will get hotter to strip me of the chilling cold. Unfortunately I have lately learnt a startling geographical discovery that it will get cooler if I got higher. I knew that if you get nearer to the fire you will find it hotter and our great grandparent said that God is protected by the sun and those who are on the mountains are nearer to God. I don’t know who is right. Some prayed facing Mount Kenya and others Kirimaara.

Due to geography my head is cooler than my legs and that is why my head has grown some vegetation which seems to cover even my face resisting those strong attacks from the cold. I know you don’t admire my countenance and height but that is how things are. I like being tall for I receive a soothing brand of air that only a few have polluted. Please don’t hate this article.

Copyright Tabu Bin Tabu 2009