Kenyan writer Abdallah adapts her Masai Mara life-experiences  into a satire/metaphor concocted poetic letter bomb


Your verses crack a whip of suspense in   precision-famished poetic mental pastures. Your poems are literary gems golden rimmed by   mind -tilting suspense, wit, sense of belonging, embrace/love of homeland/motherland, cultural patriotism (ubuntu). These wittingly stubbed poetic nuggets are an identity birth-mark to an African/Kenyan poetess rising to the podium clutching unto her black/red clay Masai-mara palms, some blood-rippling -mind nagging epistles of belonging, dreams of her ancestors and love letters to her homeland/father/grandmother. Cynthia Abdallah adapts her trailblazing childhood/life experiences in Masai -Mara into a satire/metaphor concocted letter bomb ready to explode /shake the global literary scene.  The nuggets /gems exhibited here are a drop in the ocean of a forthcoming, nerve-blasting collection by the Kenyan author /poet/artist/writer/filmmaker/educationist Cynthia Abdallah–   mbizo chirasha(curator)

My Father

My father used to hold his Maasai whip in a tight grip,

His scathing eyes scaring our little souls into unwavering…

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A sudden storm by Pius Oleghe

The wind howls; the trees sway,

The loose housetop sheets clatter and clang; 

The open window shuts with a bang,

And the sky makes night of day.

Helter skelter, the parents run,

Pressed with a thousand minor cares,

Hey, you there! Pack up the house wares, 

And where on earth is my son?

Home skip the little children;

Where have you been you naughty boy? 

But the child feels nothing but joy,

For he loves the approach of rain.

The streets clear; the houses fill,

The noise gathers as the children shout

To rival the raging wind without,

And naught that can move is still.

A bright flash, a lighted plane,

Then from the once blue heavens,

Accompanied by noise that deafens.

Steadily pours the rain.

Exciting performance by Mshai Mwangola