Village boy Impressions

There was an old man in my village who didn’t like to be greeted “Saliu’wa?” (Good morning?), or for that matter good afternoon, or good evening. He preferred to be greeted in the traditional exchange which entail a recital of enquiries about a person’s health, and that of their spouse, children, siblings, parents, other relatives and even neighbours. As children, we took delight in arousing his anger by shouting “saliu’wa!” at him from a distance before we took to our heels and run for dear life.

Photo by Dominika Masarska (Bybanen stop at Nonneseter) The rain is falling everywhere Falling, falling, falling… all year long!  It rains on the mountains and hills  And on the shops in the valleys.  In the parks, lakes, and fields  On trees, shrubs, and grass it falls.  Bergen is rain and rain is Bergen.

I wander through every mucky street,  Near where the choked Odaw cannot flow.  And mark in every face I meet,  Marks of weariness, marks of sorrow In the very sweat of every chap,  In every driver's cry for way,  In every voice: in every shack,  The decay of a nation holds sway. Have you read:  The Hustler in the City? How the street-sleepers cry,  Every trader's stall in choking spaces,  And the shirtless truck pushers' sigh,  Ring of the sleaze in high places.  But worse, in the perilous nights I see  How the youthful harlots and hustlers sleep  As the cargo of cursed slave-ships at sea  And chars with shame the conscience deep You may also like:  The Kayayei's Tale

Cli-ing! cli-ing! cli-ing!  “Break time pleeeeaase!”  Went the school bell,  And the bellboy  together.  And all at once we bail out  Shouting talking laughing  Hailing jumping running  Rumbling like a turbulent stream. Spreading out into the compound  Like a flood sweeping across  The plains after a heavy shower  Delighted as  caged birds set free! Read: Village Boy Impressions - The Days of Bliss

1. Before the rains Burning! Burning!  In still smokeless air,  The land goes up in flames!  Man, bird, beast, and leaf  All stand bowed, brown, and lifeless;  Oppressed by the pitiless sun  Marauding across the naked sky  Shooting fiery darts upon the open fields Like a notorious slave raider.  Men crawl into  kusungta [1]  to muse  Beasts stand motionless beneath ageless trees  And birds quietly nestle in the crowns.  Only bare baobabs and naked compounds  Stand defiant in the fiery scenery  As are the women, indomitable,  Sprinkling ngam [2]  on mud walls  To cure them for  the coming rains Read:  Village Boy Impressions - A Moonlit Night 2. After the early rains Verdant and breathless! All the land is alive and feisty Such a fair sight to behold! All look upon her and wonder. For the land now wears in majesty, The viridescence of the early rains Stretching into the distant horizon. All around, men women and children Are b

Long, long ago, before ever I met you  I knew and loved your intoxicating brew  I dreamed you up, my goal, my aspiration  My pain, my ideal, true to my station And then you came as in a vision Not merely a slavish incarnation  But as faithful as the dream I’d dreamed  In fact, more than ever you had seemed  Filled with such great strength of spirit  And as remote from fake or falsity  As from the sham of tinsel constellations  The real star that lights up the nations !  So pure in heart and so sincere are you  I confess, that as I stand before you,  I am conquered by your very human  Impetuous, gentle loveliness and acumen Oh let the dreamer not condemn me  I fell, for both of us, the joy will be  To know that life's compassion is Much greater than our imaginings. This poem was written and dedicated to a mysterious lady  on 22nd January, 2010.