The Ride Poem by Pen Anthony

He was seated in a matatu next to the
window,
besides being in a bus seating next to the
window was a reason for his smile,
he hadnt been in one for...wait he had lost
count
but it was surely a long time
he wasnt staring at the window but through
it
what he was looking at hadnt seemed
possible until now.
It was a man hand in hand with a woman
and when a man of his age seated next to
him said'
what has nairobi turned into, i know the
woman is with the mzungu to get her hands
into his pocket
that made him all the more flared up
he was angry and the woman was the cause
had he not been in prison for refusing to
compromise his ancestral lands
and God knows for how long they had kept
him there
wasnt the whiteman that wanted his land by
the stream the one who had had him pickd
by his fellow tribesmen
they took him to the chamber and called him
mau mau
then they locked him up and never let him out
till now that he has lost his front row denture
and red firery eyes have been put out to
march his plantation like wrinkled face..