East African Community Poem by Brian Mawadri

It's a cosy job: now days.
To represent the civic; poor EAC!
Chaos submerges intellect during nominations.
Interests of the commons are neglected:
For selfish ambitions!
Divided minds, and yet they want to unite Swahili.
Boisterous presentation;
And civility is pocketed deep;
Our untaxed servants lack listening skills.
How do they except me to accommodate them.
O, Pearl of Africa!

North, guns are smoking;
Wails rent the environs.
Stirring the populace into commotion!
Families start for safety; at all directions.
Haunt befalls the air,
Allowing for faint cries of dying bodies:
Hunger and starvation ravage;
And survivors endure their new reality,
As they trek to protection.
Egos flare; and treaties are disowned.
O, youngest nation of the world.

South-west, a tyrant is a Viking.
He wants to sail south out of judgment.
What about the citizenly.
Which want him out?
Ideologies lock horns; suspicion frown faces.
Finger pointing damages the fragile relations;
With her neighbor!
Multitudes decline; returning home.
Under his shepherdship:
Reconciliation with opposing factions,
are offered tissue-paper.
And flashed into the septic!

South, press is muzzled.
A bulldozer is fuelled; to wreck.
Has the dark, befallen my lovely EAC.
Mwalimu Julius Nyerere foresaw!

East; hospitality is hanged by new bought rope.
Leaving refugees and asylum seekers,
prone to ruthless jihadists.
Hungry for recognition;
And eager to revamp their wounded pride!