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Letters for my Mother

"Letters for my Mother" is a collection of thoughts, emotions, and socioeconomic factors that have hindered my mother and me until her passing in 2007. At that time, I was away from home, moving from place to place, bunking on my sister's house one year and moving on to the other like clockwork. It was traumatic for me since I grew up knowing that I come from a large family of twelve and now living with different people all together or sometimes coming home to find my big sister hasn't arrived from work, so it was books and TV to keep me company. Most of the time, they were trying times as distance kept my two brothers and me from bonding fully. I am glad that I found an outlet for my part where everything seems to be going and coming. What was constantly being right was I thank them fully for taking me to high school, where I found my calling. Art, for me, was a constant where everything is a variable. I never knew I was artistically gifted in all areas of art. I found myself doing drama and musical at form one barely one month into the school. Next year, I found myself in Environment and Science Congress. I had hoped initially that I would blossom to be a scientist. There was this character, Dexter's lab, where he was a boy genius living in a suburban home and having a secret lab in the basement; it was an eye-opening factor for me, and I had to exercise to the fullest. Form three and four were full of music and festival of arts; that was where I grew my art to visual, and poetry came to me as a second language. You probably have figured out that school for me was not for learning, rather for making friends and trying my foot in various forms of art. After high school and pre-youth and college year (I studied computer graphic design for three months, and I dropped out for one reason I will share in my latter works), I found my calling in theatre and performing arts. I loved being on stage, acting, and bringing characters to life with costumes and lights. Telling narratives to the audience and watching them move with awe and splendor. Some hated me from curtain raise to curtain call, booing me for being the antagonist, and applauded wildly when I played the hero. After a while, I felt sick and stagnant for doing the same thing and staging in the same theatre. I saw different cultures and people around Kenya, my country, and settled for drawing and writing poetry and books. To be honest, I was a bit skeptical about my works and would write and draw sketches, and if they don't work out, I would tear them out and flush them. I know I was my worst critic, but I had my first break at 2017 under Storymoja and mentorship of Muthoni Garland, Samira Mathews, and Monity Odera. I published a children's book, "Monsters Who Disobeyed," translated to Swahili, also known as "Malipo ya Ukaidi." It was a milestone for me. I really appreciate my efforts, and three years later, I compiled this book for myself and also the whole world as a reminder that you can be yourself and be the greatest version; you just have to believe. My shortcoming is that my mother, may her soul rest in peace, would be proud of the young man I have become, being that I have never had the chance to show her how talented I am. To all the dreamers and the creatives out there, I would like to give a nugget of wisdom to all that the first step is the hardest, but you will get there eventually. After a while, I must say I am well-versed with various art forms, and I speak the language fluently. As a reader and a fan of my work, I must acknowledge that it is a pleasure giving you access to my world, and I hope to share a room in your library as a favorite.

ODUOR_ISADIAH · 都市
分數不夠
51 Chs

LETTERS FOR MY MOTHER

Hello Ma

It's been a minute

From the junior days

Living in the community

Family is a team right?

Eleven of us against the world

Crawling from the jungle

Monkey DNA is in our blood

Jumping into building our forte

Nearly lost my soul that day

Long cold nights in the room

No more than you as company

Where my tired  soul recovered

Quiet down my child used to say

The world is a big stage

Play your part only no extra

Changed my course for the better

Now a budding artist aspiring for change

Going hard at it so they give me accolades

The tie you down for good

I will shy you were here to see our growth

Karis doing film with lights and grips

Adhis pursuing modelling with cat poses

Kitinda mimba Wicky still strong chilling

You know how to breed kings and queens

Now the situation changed for better

But not much can be said for our country

Still  being rampaged with inequality

Still being forged with hate and animosity

Still youth are under the dollar sign

Still old people don't get them pensions

Still Nhif doesn't cover medical cost

Remember when we lost our dear ones ?

Still pain echoes when I reminisce

Still being mindful and cheerfully made

Still dancing our problem and going forward

The other day I got my flowers on T.v

Reminence how you said I will make it

A professor a driver and an artist

School hasn't been an option you know

Being live even for twenty minutes was enough

Dancing to reggae as we used to happily

Remember during the holidays after school ?

I was in charge of chicken and soft drinks

Knight , Lucy and Juma were in charge of pilau

Auma and Adhis made sure Karis and wicky were clean

And last but not least the dj

was I on the cassettes

Putting up Lingala and rhumba to fill the mood

Our neighbors luckily had gone to upcountry and all

We had the whole plot to ourselves literally

Ushering our uncles and aunties from home

I remember once even Dana and Kwara had sojourned

How they teased and laughed how the Nairobi meat is tough

Joy and laughter filled  our home from corner to corner

Good things never last it seems

Death came knocking years later

My niece Christine got sick suddenly and hospital replaced our home

Weekend we're filled with strangers and doctor's visit

Relationship with our relatives seemed diminished

Blood was being thinned out every minute I dare said

Soon she left us to be with the ancestors

The happiness of hers and joy were filled with grief

Our first born Achieng couldn't accept the loss

The pain of loosing a child only a mother knows

She soon started growing tired and sickly

Before we knew it our lives revolved around hospital and bills

Killing our resources I had grow up and take up responsibility

From a little brother to an uncle to a father to my brothers

Soon hoodie figure stood at the gate again

Calling our first born by her name

My mother nearly lost it and banged the gate

Swinging the gate wildly nearly off the hinges

We had to be stronger sincerely no other option was near

She too went to sleep with the ancestors

Then our home became silent and calm

I nearly welcome the hoodies again

Went to paly with my peers and Karis

Fell from the building abandoned in the streets

My neck almost snapped and lost my right eye

I saw death shedding tears for Ma

I made a pact never to make my Ma cry

Talked to death after my patient in Kenyatta died in twilight

He a little lad like me had acute  tuberculosis

I woke up next to my You since you never left my side

I recovered miraculously for someone who was facing death

Till now I am a miracle child the doctor aliased I

Thing turned out normal after the ordeal

Since I sacrificed my eye for my life a fair bargain

To see my mum even from one side view

To I that is a blessing waking up seeing her smile

Years later I'm almost finishing my primary school

You was diagnosed with meningitis

I smiled at you and you did the same

Saying that you needed time to see me graduate university

A professor in science and arts you used to say

My son is gifted "papa lefti" my alias

After the rhumba vocalist from Congo

Months you battle the disease with ease

August had the hoodie calling your bluff

Even the marijuana that you seemed to puff

Could not keep the disease at bay

One last drink you said to me one night

Two hundred shilling note in my bag

Fetch it and bring my castle lager your drink

Even though you were sickly I never judged

Went to the local bar and order the lager

The maid saw my face and bought me a half litre soda

That night I slept wide awake drinking with you

Our sibling death asleep on the other room

You even dared the hoodie with a laugh and a dance

Next day Dana came by and help you with medicine

Two weeks later tubes and IV were your means of living

Too tired even to scold us when we did wrong in school

I had to tell Karis to man up to his mistakes

Never bringing trouble home we were our own men

Young boys in their teens we had to grow a pair

Wickliffe being in lower class we had to shield him

The hoodie figure came again in broad daylight

I wad in class when the teacher broke the news

Apparently Karis didn't attend morning preps

He saw her last and came midday to school with news

Our Matron ,Queen, Our mother has gone

Till now you left a hole in my chambers

We went home soon and laid you to rest with ancestors

Years gone by our sisters married and filled the space within

From Juma we have Caesar the footballer after his father Terah

Bobby Jagongo the mischievous lad is a rugby player

Ashley doing her end year exams for primary

From Lucy we have Mitchell strong willed lady

Remember her 1st birthday we had you smeared with cake

I had the tuxedo on from Christmas ! Good times indeed

Eveline is finishing her high school studies too

A designer in the making I dare say

And Kimberly Lucy last born is almost done with primary school

An artist an a curious lady just I their uncle!

From Knight we have Fabian the boy who loves cars!

He is grown now pursuing computer science in University

Keshia is finishing her high school studies a brilliant lady

She is an aspiring writer like uncle Charlie

That what they call me and I hate that and love it

Call it a bitter sweet symphony my own bipolarity

Pamela the last born after your name is in secondary school

I am yet to see what she grows up into

Tabu is good now

From the domestic violence from her husband remember ?

How we almost beat that man to hospital bed for mistreating our own

Winnie her first born is a young lady now

Future is bright for her

No child should ever experience what she saw in their home

Ishmael is a budding artist in high school

I can't wait to give home the tools of trade from the sage

Fidel is in primary almost finishing up his primary school

A dancer in the making

Akinyi is growing up to be a strong woman

She staying with Juma you know how it is

Gift the last born boy let's just say the family is bigger

Auma is in Kiambu now

Her first born Emmanuel is a bright young lad

Her last born Sarah looks just like her mum

I haven't visited them that's my bad

Adhiambo is now a independent woman

She has a son I bet you know that

Keith is his name

A curious and intelligent lad I might add

As for me you know a jack of all trades

You taught me well for that I thank you

Told me never to hold back my gifts and strength

I will put our name on history to be our story

Karis has grown up too

From a young hustler to a career in film

The best grips and lights in the Industry

He has a young family he told I

I have to make time to go for a visit

A young boy suit him a blessing to our family

last but not least Wickliffe has grown tall

He is pursuing carpentry you know

I guess that the tea I had to share with you

I was nice catching up with you Ma

I must say politic is just the same

After fours years the leaders do their thing

After you left us our country went in P.E.V

Skirmishes here and there left many displaced

Some had trauma that has never left them on

I pray that the find peace now and then

Oh and I had to switch from religion to spirituality

Sorry Ma I have dreadlocks on my part

I know you used to braid long hair before I joined school

I am just following your roots

You was a saloonist  u used to tell tales

And a crotchet weaver too I miss that

When it was Chama how you spread them

From chairs to table and cupboard

Guess that where I got my artistry from You!

Enough rambling I guess you hated when I do so

But it was nice sharing tales with you Ma

I know you are looking after us from the other side

Greet Dana and Kwara for I

Your papa lefti son

Odiwour even though you write it Oduor.

Inshallah.