Issue 001

Know Your Constitution THE PREAMBLE

Kalamu Huru

I NEVER GOT A CHANCE TO QUIT

MY SPACEIS EVERYWHERE

MAY 2019

CONTENTS

3 My Space Is Everywhere SOPHIA NASIMIYU

5 Photography Feature ERUNGU

6 Book Review DUST

7 3 Ways to Get Creative With Your Breakfast Toast JIKONI

12 Know Your Constitution KAMAU KAMATU

13 The Matatu Ride EARLWIN

15 Art Feature MICHAEL MUSYOKA

18 Where Did The Sound Go? THE KENYAN JUKEBOX

19 Album Review BLACK IN GOLD

21 I Never Got A Chance To Quit KALAMU HURU

Contact Details MVIRINGO Editor: info@thisismviringo.com Phone: +254 780 030 279 Website: www.thisismviringo.com Our Associates: She’s Kitchen, Kamau Kamatu, Kai, ERUNGU, Michael Musyoka, Earlwin, Sophia Nasimiyu, Les Africanes, The Kenyan Jukebox. Editor: Wanami BeyeneNo part of the contents may be reproduced without prior written permission. While every care is taken to ensure accuracy in preparing the magazine, the publisher assumes no responsibility for mistakes and effects arising therefrom. The publisher made every effort to arrange copyright in accordance with existing legislation. A soft copy of MVIRINGO MAGAZINE is available for free download at www.thisismviringo.com

A WORD FROM THE EDITOR

We, as a species, usually and intrinsically intend to give the best to our offspring, in terms of wealth and education. Human offspring are helpless and require constant care and assistance for survival. Like most animals, as parents, we do our best to ensure that our future generations are equipped with skills and instincts that will guarantee them, as well as the species, long-term survival.

Unfortunately, today, many of the skills and instincts we offer our offspring are dangerously lacking in value. Instead of training the future of our species to survive, instead of guiding them towards skills and interests that will encourage and support them in the future, we are teaching them to be faithful in naivety and persevering in their quest for better forms of idleness.

Firstly, parents contribute inconsistent values, influenced by foreign cultures, traumatizing experiences and their moods at the time, to their children.

Curriculum development and delivery is unquestioned, and as the product of an education system that is confusing and trivial in its delivery of inadequate and impractical lessons, I can tell you that we are being taken for a ride.

It is time to transform the minds of this species. Time to stabilize the quality and consistency of the education and skills we offer to the future of our existence.

We must ensure that we work towards an earth, a country, an environment, a society, an economy, and a future where our children work and live healthily, and do the same for their offspring.

This is just a tile on the long wall of history, largely distorted. A message, a crying out, a seed, a plan for the future. This is the foundation stone for a future of brilliance and courage. This is a channel - one that is narrow within the sea of misinformation - for truth.

THIS. IS. MVIRINGO.

- Wanami Beyene

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My dad has been a using a wheelchair practically all my life – since I was one-year-old – so that’s all I’ve ever known.

When I was growing up, I guess I never really thought about it. In my mind, my dad was still my dad. We still got to do all the normal, fun stuff that other people did with their dads. We played basketball, we watched movies, we went on holidays, we learned to play the guitar, he taught me how to cook chicken. Of course sometimes we had to improvise, but other than that it was a very normal childhood. I would like to say that the only limit to how much fun we could have was our imagination, but we were lucky that we could afford to do the things we did. Sometimes though, we could not work around the complete inaccessibility of our environment.

In primary school Sports Day was easily the best event in the school year. The cheering, the colours, the makeup, and – for those who were athletic – participating in the races. I was one of those athletic ones, so was my sister. The rush of adrenaline I got from participating in a race was unparalleled. Our passion for sports is something my sister and I share with our dad. Both of our parents encouraged us to participate in sports growing up, but it is with dad that we spent hours watching sports – football, rugby, tennis, athletics… you name it! So it was really disappointing that the first time dad attended a sports day was when we were in class eight, our last year of primary school. For seven years, he had been unable to access the field, because there was no ramp.

This is not the only time we have been unable to do some-thing as a family because dad couldn’t access the environ-ment, but it is one of the memories at the forefront of my mind.

I cannot excuse public spaces for being unfriendly. I can tolerate older buildings and establishments to some level, but I cannot wrap my head around the newer restaurants, offices, and other such places that are still not making any steps towards making their spaces accessible. For your space to be accessible, it should be easy for persons with disability to navigate it with little to no aid. We get to move on with our lives independently, why shouldn’t it be the same for them?

Sometimes people are not aware as to how inaccessible their environments actually are. This is because you are able to move around and navigate your space without much thought. While those two steps may mean nothing to you, they are the difference between whether someone on a wheelchair can move from one room to another, or even get into a building in the first place. People often don’t think about it until they, for some reason, are suddenly unable to access these spaces, or they are accompanied by someone who can’t. I guess in some aspects I have been lucky to have grown up in such an environment as I have become sensitive to accessibility in

the spaces i access.

While it is important for people to educate themselves on these things, it is also important for those of us who are aware to help teach our friends and family. I know lots of my friends, and other people that my family interact with, have become increasingly aware of these things. We talk about it constantly, even in the absence of our dad. We go to a restaurant for a meal and comment on how we can’t come here with dad because of the narrow door, or because of that extra step right there… Nowadays I’ve had friends talking about a public space they have accessed and they remember to point out how it does in terms of accessibility. Constantly having these conversations means we have been able to influence others to think about it as well. That’s what we need to do. By persistently talking about it, it becomes normalised for others.

While it is important to talk about these issues among our peers, it is even more important to let establishments know how they’re doing on these issues. When I was younger, my mum would always do this work. My mum is one of the most amicable, pacific people I know, but she never shies away from speaking out about the injustice of inaccessibility. I have many, many, many memories of us going somewhere and her asking to speak to the manager about one issue or another. I have never been a confrontational person. At the first sign of conflict, I often turn and run. When I was young-er, I would always wish the earth would just swallow me whenever Mum spoke up on these things. Now that I am older, I get it. While I am still terrified of confrontation, I have become – and am becoming – increasingly better at speaking up, speaking out, and following up on these issues. I ask to speak to managers and owners, I send emails. I am not afraid to boycott places or even take to social media if I have to. No matter what I do, I refuse to be silent.

On March 1 we marked International Wheelchair Day. I looked through dozens of posts online and read amazing stories of people achieving great things and leading normal lives despite the negative or discouraging things people have said to them about being on a wheelchair. We constantly say that disability is not inability. Persons with disabilities are determined to live their lives to the full despite being on a wheelchair. Let us ensure that we enable them to live their best lives independently by making all spaces as friendly and accessible as possible. Let us not wait for it to be our turn, or the turn of a loved, in order to make some change. Let us not make another father wait eight years just to be able to see his daughters run a race and cheer them on.

If there is no limit as to what I can do and where I can go, the same should hold true for persons with disabilities. If my space is everywhere, theirs should be too.

My Space Is Everywhere By Sophia Nasimiyu

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“ I ONLY STRESS ABOUT ART THESE DAYS ’’” - Erungu

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BOOK REVIEW

DUST by Yvonne Adhiambo Owuor

By Kai

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If love was a book, this is the hill I’d choose to be blind on. Yvonne creates a skilfully woven world that allows you to fall in love with the Kenyan-ness of Kenya yet still loathe what she does to her people. Yvonne’s poetic prose carries the day. If words are your drug then this dose is long overdue. She weaves worlds with words and it is easy to get lost in those worlds as the blanket of words offers comfort like no other.

When Odidi encounters the many-faced god called death, he is not aware that his encounter will be the turning point of many lives. In the face of tragedy, a family gathers and memories are stirred. The memories take us back to stories long buried yet threatening to bust from their graves. To find peace, skeletons must be uncovered. To heal, forgiveness must be imagined. To imagine forgiveness, the truth must be revealed. What endures when the dust settles? Only Nyipir and his family know. And maybe you too when you pick up this book.

A gripping story of politics and the things it reaps from our grasp. A story of silence and the lives it tears apart. A story of love and the chords it weaves to bind us together to ties; ties however much strained hold tightly to one day re-unite us. A story of wounds, scars and the path to finding healing: forgiveness.

This is a book I will probably read every year. A must read for every Kenyan but not just for Kenyans a necessary read for all. To learn to speak even when words are not enough. To refuse silence, even if it costs your life. To learn. To enjoy.

ONION TOMATO & CHEESE TOASTINGREDIENTS:2 white bread slices1/2 cup of Cheddar / Mozarella cheese or both3 slices of tomatoSome onion rings

DIRECTIONS:Place the 2 slices of bread on a baking tray Spread the grated of cheese over the bread followed by the tomato slices and onionsPlace the toasts in the medium heat oven for about 5 minutes or on a skillet and coverMake sure you peep after 5 minutes to make sure they don't burn because they turn very quickly Sprinkle with fresh cilantro and pepper flakes if desired

JIKONI

3 Different Ways To Get Creative With Your Breakfast Toast

By She’s Kitchen

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GET CREATIVE WITH YOUR BREAKFAST TOAST

SPICY BREAD OMELETTE

INGREDIENTS:1 egg ¼ cup onions finely chopped ¼ cup tomatoes A pinch of chopped cilantro ¼ Tsp black pepper ¼ Tsp paprika Salt – to tasteSome Oil/ Butter

DIRECTIONS In a small bowl thoroughly beat your egg.

Then add the salt, paprika, pepper, chopped onion, tomatoes and cilantro leaves.

Mix well and keep it aside.

Coat the bread slices with egg mixture.

Heat a tsp of butter/ oil in a pan.

Coat each slice of bread well in egg mixture and quickly place them on the pan.

Once the sides brown flip them gently and cook till done and voila! Your breakfast for a lazy or busy morning is ready.

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GET CREATIVE WITH YOUR BREAKFAST TOAST

HONEY FRENCH TOAST

INGREDIENTS2 thick slices of white bread ¼ cup milk1 egg2 tbsp honey1 tbsp melted butter, unsalted

DIRECTIONS

In a bowl, whisk the milk, eggs & melted butter.

Dip bread into mixture, allow to soak for 30 seconds on each side, and then remove.

Place your skillet over medium heat.

Add the butter and tilt the pan until the butter melts and evenly coats the bottom. Add the soaked bread and cook for about 2-3 minutes, or until browned on the bottom.

Turn the bread using a spatula and brown the other side for about two more minutes.

Spread the honey evenly over the tops and cook for about 1 minute then turn the bread over and brown the other side spreading the rest of the honey over the top.

Serve your French toast on a platter plain or with warmed honey butter sauce & topped with your favorite topping.

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SEARCH FEELING LUCKY

KNOW YOUR CONSTITUTION

THE PREAMBLE

By Kamau Kamatu

First things first, I am an African millennial and though this may seem to be something obnoxious to state in my first article, it does hold weight. I am from a genera-tion that cuts across the millenniums and is as comfort-able relating to Simba in The lion King as it is loving the villain, Scar, in the same movie.

Which brings me to my point on being an African Millennial. I was instructed not to question my elders as they ‘know better’, but I grew up to make decisions based on what matters to me. Freedom, ladies and gentlemen.

Now that you know a little about me, let’s talk about The Kenyan Constitution 2010, without the Latin mumbo-jumbo lawyers spew in court.

The Kenyan constitution is unique and it has been termed ‘the most progressive set of laws by a state in the third world’. This means that others actually appre-ciate the contents of the free book copies we were given after the 2010 promulgation of this constitution. Yes, it is free.

The first really important part/section of this document is the preamble. Simply put, it’s like the 20th Century opening intro that comes at the beginning of a movie. It gives you a quick idea of who did it, and in some cases it might actually determine your interest in the movie. It is one page with one hundred and fifty two words.

In this article I will highlight some words to emphasize their importance then follow it up with a simple expla-nation.

We, the people of Kenya- people recognised by the Kenyan state, we who give the state a reason to exist.

ACKNOWLEDGING the supremacy of the Almighty God of all creation - recognising the overarching power of a supernatural being. Note that in this concept the State takes the position of a country that recognises a higher power but does not specify of which religion. This allows for its citizens to believe in a higher power but does not restrict them to a religion.

HONOURING those who heroically struggled to bring freedom and justice to our land - we value and recognise the importance of the actions of those who came before us and bled for us to enjoy the freedoms we have now to develop laws to govern us.

PROUD of our ethnic, cultural and religious diversity, and

determined to live in peace and unity as one indivisible sover-eign nation- our people are not from one historical background and we hold different opinions and social backgrounds. However, despite our differences we have come together behind certain common values above all others. We hold power to make our decisions without the influence of all others.

RESPECTFUL of the environment, which is our heritage, and determined to sustain it for the benefit of future generations- we recognize that we cannot exist without the environment we exist in and we will take measures to maintain our environment and allow for it to benefit those who come after us.

COMMITED to nurturing and protecting the well-being of the individual, the family, communities and the nation- we are in agreement that the laws we make will nurture and protect the well-being of the individuals in the state as well the social groups we are part of.

RECOGNISING the aspirations of all Kenyans for a government based on the essential values of human rights, equality, freedom, democracy, social justice and the rule of law- as a people we accept that we are different but the differences we hold will not make us better or lesser than the other. This means that we are all equal under the law, despite our differ-ences.

EXERCISING our sovereign and inalienable right to determine the form of governance of our country and having participated fully in the making of this constitution- we decide who and how we will be ruled because we made this constitution and agreed to it.

ADOPT, ENACT and give this Constitution to ourselves and to our future generations- we accept this constitution as the overarching power and agree to abide by its articles. We accept that the laws in this constitution apply to each one of us and to those who are within our territory including our children and our children’s children and so forth.

GOD BLESS KENYA- we seek blessings from the supernatural power to guide and protect our state.

A lot of words but worth a read. This means that you, as a Kenyan, owns this constitution and accepts it to govern and determine your life on a day to day basis.

This is simply a contract you have made, or was made by someone on your behalf, with other Kenyans on how you will co-exist together; and the preamble is a declaration that you have made this contract.

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THE MATATU RIDE

By Earlwin

I slid on my backside over the conductor's seat to mine, right next to it, in the 14-seater matatu. My right knee scratched against something on the front seat. I went through this or something similar every time on account of my long legs. Next to me, on the window, sat a middle-aged woman in glasses and a pretty stripped blouse. I didn't pay much attention to her as the vehicle went on and she kept her gaze forward, pausing twice to open her bag and thumb through notes for her fare and later, fish out her phone from her bag, scroll through it, then sink it back.

Outside, was a beautiful warm morning. It had finally rained the day before and the leaves were washed back to green again. The flowers on the trees had also some-how bloomed, and this combination made for a pretty sight. The grass was still mostly dried out though. We drove through the Kabete suburbs and I could see no one save one or two house workers walking down and up the picturesque road. I gazed at the majestic houses I could see on either side of the road... one of which I hoped to own one day.

A few minutes later, we reached Westlands... or rather, we got stuck in a traffic jam at Sarit for about ten minutes... then got into Westlands. This is when the woman next to me did something I found intriguing. She suddenly turned her head to her bag, opened it, took out a rosary and held it in her left hand. She then signed the cross with her right hand, her eyes closed and said a short but solemn prayer. I turned to her when I caught this at the corner of my eye, but turned back to face forward when she was done so that she wouldn't catch me.

I sat taken aback for a minute. Why would... I thought. I glanced at her again. She sat back straight soon after like it hadn't happened... like praying was second nature to her... how she reacted to anything... as mundane as blinking. I wondered how that worked. I didn't remember when I last said a prayer. I always figured enough people were praying for me already... and did He really listen to every single person's prayer? If everything has already been planned out by him, what would be the point of praying if whatever was to happen would happen anyway? "If bad, bad," one of my friends always said.

I'm over-thinking this, I thought to myself.

And I was. I snapped out of it, and that's is when it hit me. There had been a terror attack recently. That must have been what she was praying about. To be kept safe. But then, I couldn't know. She might have been praying for something else. I hated when I couldn't know. But it wasn't like I could just ask her.

The whole reason you're even thinking about this is because you don't pray much, I thought to myself. What gives?

I felt a slight shame about it at that moment. Had I proudly added myself to some list of people who felt too cool for prayer? Why was I ignoring the probable presence of a force greater than anything... one that could decide whether I kept alive or not? Was I really ignoring it? Or was it just life coming at me too hard to fast? But it was not like I didn't have time. I had lots of it. Maybe, I had lost my religion. Did I even believe in God?

My phone vibrated in my pocket after a piercing message tone. I took it out. My father had texted me, but I didn't really read anything else in it except the last part, "Good day, and God bless." What does that even mean? I asked myself. I'd never really thought about it. I usually just sent back, "Good day and God bless you too." But then I wondered if I really believed any of it. Did God really actively participate in every person's life like that? Wouldn't it even be selfish to think like that? If I were God, I would sit back after setting all the laws and stuff in place, and just let everything do whatever it wanted to. If bad, bad.

I put my phone back in my pocket, and soon after, we were in town. Even I couldn't explain how fast the time had gone. I might have frozen looking at my phone's screen for a little longer than usual, because the woman gave me a peculiar look after I put it away. I hadn't really processed that look when the conductor jumped out announcing the matatu had reached and we were to get off, which we did.

I stood some distance away from the vehicle, fixed to the ground, lost in thought. But then the looks from passengers in buses driving past me snapped me back to reality. I saw a reflection of myself on the windows of one of the ones passing by. You tall dark and handsome prick, I thought and smiled.

Xavi Fabricators Ltd.Mitsumi Business Park, 10th Flr.Muthithi Rd. WestlandsP.O.Box 66270 - 00800Nairobi, Kenya.

Tel : +254 (0) 720 876 021 / +254 (0) 786 479 153

Email: info@xavifabricators.com : sales@xavifabricators.comWeb : www.xavifabricators.com

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“ I’VE ALWAYS BEEN DRAWN TO ART ” -Michael Musyoka

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“ I’VE ALWAYS BEEN DRAWN TO ART ” -Michael Musyoka

“I’VE ALWAYS BEEN DRAWN TO ART”-Michael Musyoka

“I carve my dreams in paint,” is all his ‘About’ page says on Facebook. His body of work is astonishing. His paintings are a clever and appealing approach to social commentary immersed in visual delight, with 3D art being a main feature of his productions.

He was kind enough to share his work for the enlightenment and esthetic development of the local community; to foster knowledge of Kenyan art, and the consumption of the same by Kenyan audiences.

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The year is 2007. You're anticipating reaching home in time for 'The Beat'. 'Kiasi' by Juacali comes on and you're vibing out as you peep the news ticker: “Up Next: Under 18 - Jimwat.” Blindfolded, gun to your head, you'd be able to identify these tracks as Kenyan in a heartbeat. Can you say the same for our current era though?

'Kapuka', 'Genge' and 'Boomba' music were genres back then popularized by the era of Clemmo, Juacali, Abbas, Bamboo, Nonini, Nameless, Kleptomaniax and Necessary Noize. The same era that had P-Square, Blu-3, Maton-ya, 2Face and Makoma. We could be defined across borders.

Fast forward to today, Kenyan music has taken a whole new diverse approach to incorporate almost every kind of musical style. Exclude the use of 'Sheng', a track like 'Dundaing' sounds the same as Olamide's 'Motigbana'. So where did the shift occur?

Camp Mulla took the industry by storm in 2010 with their debut hit single 'Party Don't Stop'. The song earned them a BET nomination for 'Best International Act, Africa'. A whole new wave of ‘cool kids' came to life. From Sage, Jay A to Xtatic and Wangeci. Local dialect was dropped, and a more Westernized style became the trend.

It's 2019 and we have a musical gap. Older artists like Nyashinski, Muthoni the Drummer Queen, Madtraxx and Mejja struggle to maintain the early 2000s sound, whereas new artists like Vallerie Muthoni, Khaligraph Jones

and Barak Jacuzzi have incorporated afro beats, American hiphop and alternative instrumentals.

Being fluid is commendable, but to what extent? We don't have to make Kenyan sound extinct. South Africa, Nigeria, Ghana and Tanzania all create diverse music, but constantly stick to their roots. We can't expect to gain recognition if we have nothing to identify with. That's the tea ladies and gentlemen.

VIEWS OF A MELOPHILE

Where Did The Sound Go?

by The Kenyan Jukebox

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ALBUM REVIEW

Black in Gold – Nairobi Horns Project

By Les Africanes

Nairobi Horns Project is a group from Nairobi, Kenya that brings together musicians bonded by their love for new music, and a commitment to building a sound around horns, in African and contemporary music. (Quite a mouthful isn’t it?)

My first live encounter with NHP at the recently concluded Africa Nouveau Festival was long overdue, having been an ardent follower of the collective since their 2017 release titled Kipepeo. Having only had a taste of their debut album via streaming platforms, I was in for a rather welcome surprise.

They live up to the hype.

What originally begun as a commercially viable horn section in 2015 comprised of Mokua Rabai, a saxophonist, Victor Kinama, a trombonist, and Mackinlay Musembi, a multi-instrumentalist, has since transitioned into one of the most promising jazz ensembles in the country and the continent.

The Nairobi Horns Project is also comprised of a rhythm section, with George Nyoro on the keys, Moiza Basinze on the bass, Amani Baya on the drums, Jack Muguna on the guitar and Kasiva Mutua on percussions.

The collective has graced the Koroga Festival, the Safaricom Jazz Festival, the Joy of Jazz Festival in Johannesburg and, most recently, the Africa Nouveau Festival in Nairobi, Kenya, where they performed, live and for the first time on stage, their highly anticipated full length debut album Black in Gold released earlier this year.

Black in Gold, which is the ensemble’s debut full length project, was released on February 5th this year, and is an ambitious showcase of ingenious composition and a rather unique take on various African musical influences.

At about 47 minutes long, the project opens with Muguna Muguna which is a play on their guitar player’s name, befittingly so. The composition opens with subtle horns that transition into a warm and inviting jazz groove that then sets the stage for Muguna as he guides the listener on what is a rather sensual soundscape on the guitar.

Furaha and Let’s get away each feature smooth layered grooves on the horns. Rhumba Nostalgia (very aptly titled) kicks up the wistfulness a notch, featuring Victor on the trombone and Cuban finger style on the guitar, reminiscent of rhumba’s golden age with a groove that is bound to keep the listener on their feet.

Mukoye is an interpretation of Luhya rhythms from West-ern Kenya, and Mackinlay attributes the opening as an ode to his heritage.

In a recent interview, the pioneer members of ‘Nairobi Horns’, as they are referred to, endearingly, described the album as “about the privilege of growing up, living, and interacting with the rich heritage of sounds and rhythms that represent our culture.”

I elect that Black in Gold encapsulates this sentiment in its entirety. It is a refreshing take on African rhythms and melodies - a testament to the genius Africa has and continues to offer on the Global stage, especially with a majority of global music trends moving towards dancehall and African percussive rhythms.

There is a soothing quality to this music, something sensual and groovy, something familiar. The melodies are quite nostalgic, as if leading you home, to reaches in your mind and heart that have long been forgotten. Like Sunday afternoons with your folks, that unbridled serenity that can only come from being where you belong.

The transitions are effortless, whether it is from one song to the next, or from one sequence to the following one. Each element leads the listener further into a comfortable space. Drum breaks that demand that all your inhibitions are momentarily discarded in favor of the melodic eupho-ria that one is immersed in.

Unfortunately, a description of such a performance is as precise as an attempt at explaining the immaculate nature of Van Gogh’s Starry Night. For adequate appreciation, for a comprehensive interpretation, your senses and feelings must … must be stricken.

Black in Gold is a sonic adventure that I believe everyone needs to experience, live.

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“ … [The album is] about the privilege of growing up, living and interacting with the rich heritage of sounds and rhythms that represent our culture. ”

Black in Gold is a sonic adventure that I believe everyone needs to experience.

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KALAMU HURU

I NEVER GOT A CHANCE TO QUIT

By Wanami Beyene

I am the one who spends time online, patiently waiting for a chance, a spark, a sign that the world has a place for me. I start the journey on Facebook, sometimes BrighterMonday, sometimes LlinkedIn, and most times on Twitter and WhatsApp.

I am the one who was promised that education would be the key. That all I had to do was behave well, play sports and get good grades. All that mattered was a barrage of certificates that I would carry in a briefcase to an interview, present them and negoti-ate a salary.

I am the one who joined clubs, participated in music festivals and drama. I am the talented one who bears dreams and whims about being a rapper, DJ, singer, actress or TV host.

I am the one they hate to address. The one they are upset about.

They shout, “Quit playing the victim. Work hard. You will succeed. This is capitalism. The market gives and takes away. The invisible hand will bestow capital to those who create value.”

I am a victim without a voice. An entrepreneur without resources. A talented youth without a platform. An idea without a plan. And somehow, it is my fault that I am yet to find a way.

I wallow in the traffic, in thoughts that occupy my mind, forcing me to resign to distractions. Dark humour. Jokes and videos. Pictures. Online content. I am resigned to being a follower. To accept notions that dictate my identity.

I will become enough when I buy that phone, that car, that house, that brand of clothing.

Suddenly, it all becomes too much. Suddenly, it dawns on me that I may never have the means to access my dreams. Suddenly, I realize that I may be alive to strive towards all that is good, endlessly and furiously but without fruition.

I am a slave to a system that rejects my plight. And every time one of my kind escapes the rut, they look down on the rest of us. The rest of us are lazy and therefore, undeserving. We didn’t do “enough” to survive. We missed the opportunity because of our own failures, and not because of the existing system.

So every time one of us is shot dead after a football game, it will be forgotten because they are too far away. They aren’t as human because they do not speak like those on the other side of the system’s kindness.

“They steal phones and stab people. They should die.”

Our country has one disease. And that is silence. Beneath all the languages, clothes, cliques, groups and pages. Behind all the walls. Across classrooms and class structures, we have all learned to keep silent as we watch the youth being set alight. As the future remains in ashes.

I am the voice of the children of this land. Children who wish to know trees, because trees are shade in a world too harsh. Children who want a chance to be young. To work and eat of their sweat. Children who wish to build their nation with their hands and their taxes. Children who are built by their nation.

I am not a victim. I’d simply like a chance to try. A chance to quit.

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LOVE TURNS MEN INTO POETSAND WOMEN INTO SAINTS;BUT TIME RESTORES USTO OUR TRUE SELVES

LOVE TURNS MEN INTO POETSAND WOMEN INTO SAINTS;BUT TIME RESTORES USTO OUR TRUE SELVES