He Is A Good Man

We eat ugali and salt; our only meal each day

And skimp on other basics

Just to save enough for his private jet to take him picnics.

We pay thrice to have some cloths on our backs

So the taxman can collect enough to fill the coffers

And raise some cash to service our man's debts.

Through the bushy paths we trudge

Surefooted, beating down the freezing dew, as we head to the market

Here, muggers and rapists lie in wait, sometimes

Hunting us like starved lions

It doesn't matter if we get hurt, even die

So long as our man lives behind high perimeter walls

And walks behind another wall of neatly dressed, mean looking armed body guards

It doesn’t matter for he is a good man.

Don't talk rubbish about our man; he is our hero, our savior

They call him corrupt, a murderer

Why do these animals like to blasphame his name?

Don't ask me if he knows me; or knows the smell of my tatters

Yes, I won't marry his beautiful daughter even if I wanted

That I agree; am too poor for that  

But I cannot marry any of these animals either

They who want our man gone to the grave.

Don't remind of me how I broke my leg

When rioting on the streets, fighting for our rights

Yet our man couldn't even come to see me in hospital

And I had to request some of these animal friends to help me pay the bill

Don't remind me of that animal orphan who died a bloody death

When our man's goons descended on her with hateful lust

And punctured her dignity with overzealous manhoods

You can't even say that was our man's work

He wasn’t there in the first place; he wouldn’t do that!

Don't remind me of my Aunt, Lizy

Who has lived in a leaky tent, all these five years

Do you think our man has forgotten her plight?

That he used her vexation to bargain for power

And then turned his back on her wounds and tears?

Don't remind me these things

I know our man

He is a good man!

Last month he came

On a convoy of huge black cars, mammoths of the road

He stirred the village awake, gave us an instant holiday

We abandoned our hoes, to go sing his name and praises

We sprinkled our scarce water on the bumpy dusty road

To spare him a bout of sneezing

Out in the scortching sun, amidst the surging crowd, we craned our necks for a better view

Our man talked from the cool podium, with a mike in his soft hand

The voice of our people, the lion of the tribe of our land

We listened and cheered and clapped hard our callused hands

Just to make light his heart; just to make him leaves us something small

He will come back after a few years, to ask for our votes

It will not matter if he has delivered on his past pledges

He is a good man!

If we don't mind paying the mortgage

For his third palatial home; while we live under leaky thatch

If we pay extra for food; to help him maintain his numerous mistresses

If we will rush again to his rallies

To swallow his lies without chewing!

If we will vote him again; just because he is our man

Then he is a good man!