Something has been disturbing me of late,
I havent been able to post new poetic meditations as i have been trying to think thinbk and think.
Okay this is the issue.
In a country where the have's are less than a half, and the have nots' are the majority, the ruling elite can still afford to beg for food aid and yet expend billions of shillings counting its populace all in the name of 'data for planning.
Okay, i dont have a problem with national cencus, of course no government can adequately provide for its citizens without proper planning. But,what would it help the kenyan government knowing that it has hit the 40 million mark if two thirds of this figure are dying of hunger, what would these statistics help plan for? The funeral of the dying masses or how much the rich expect in taxes?
And does this justify their decision to have a blotted cabinet of 40 ministers so that we can have one minister to every 1 million kenyans, whilst the ratio of policeman to citizens remains at such sarcastic scales?
I was so annoyed to realize that the government has the means to mobilize its police force to protect kenyans but only does so when they are protecting their interests.
During the 'Historic' August 24th virtually all of kenya was covered in 'blue.' The minister in charge of security even had the audacity to assure us of this security whereas it is still fresh in our memories that the same force could not be mobilized to protect innocent kenyans after the botched 2007 general elections...
In my anger i stumbled upon this poem by David Soriano in the poets' corner where i went to seek solace;
They continue the adamant
Repudiation of the wrap
Clothed in the insistence of denial
An image based on ocher.
Presence of contamination
Impossible in the linen
That it is genuine after all.
Inquest of skepticism
An abundance of data
That man is not living by
Distortions and marked tempera alone.
Medieval mundane artist's rendition
Little more than desperation
So please pray tell
Where are the thousands more?
I do hope they get to read these words especially the third verse; an abundance of data that man is not living by....
Stand up and be counted,
Then lie down and be mounted,
Onto your beautiful Chariot of pain,
In the myriad of numbers,
Otherwise called statistics,
You are included,
But in the abundance of the taxes remmited,
You are excluded,
Stand up and be counted,
Show up and tell them,
All they need to know,
Yet they know that you are;
Headed for hopeless,
In their credibility.
Come help me loosen our trust in a confused government.