Showing posts with label Kenya. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kenya. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Saturday, January 12, 2008
What An African Woman Thinks: Justice and Peace
Read What An African Woman Thinks: Justice and Peace.
This particular post brought tears to my eyes. It's good to hear stories of sanity and small acts of kindness which, in the end, really are not so very small in the midst of such horrendous violence.
This particular post brought tears to my eyes. It's good to hear stories of sanity and small acts of kindness which, in the end, really are not so very small in the midst of such horrendous violence.
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Shiru
9 January 2008, 9:25 AM
A young woman told her story to a CNN reporter.
All is comfort and quiet. A full refrigerator hums,
the clock ticks- a quarter after nine,
and I haven't stirred to shower or do anything
worthwhile today. As I procrastinate,
a woman in Nairobi sits in a crowded camp
helplessly watching her child begin to go hungry
and her husband's slow, unaided journey back
from a machete-crazed abyss of hatred
and blind rage. His wounds will heal,
though he may not, nor his children,
nor the wife of his youth. For who finds
the dark and twisted path back to the land
of the living from this rape of humanity?
I find myself perturbed at my annoyance
upon finding my coffee cold. There is nothing for it-
I am helpless- am I complacent?-
and she will watch- today,
tomorrow,
the day after-
alone.
A young woman told her story to a CNN reporter.
All is comfort and quiet. A full refrigerator hums,
the clock ticks- a quarter after nine,
and I haven't stirred to shower or do anything
worthwhile today. As I procrastinate,
a woman in Nairobi sits in a crowded camp
helplessly watching her child begin to go hungry
and her husband's slow, unaided journey back
from a machete-crazed abyss of hatred
and blind rage. His wounds will heal,
though he may not, nor his children,
nor the wife of his youth. For who finds
the dark and twisted path back to the land
of the living from this rape of humanity?
I find myself perturbed at my annoyance
upon finding my coffee cold. There is nothing for it-
I am helpless- am I complacent?-
and she will watch- today,
tomorrow,
the day after-
alone.
Monday, January 07, 2008
The Fields
THE FIELDS
7 January 2008, 12:17 PM
O, Beloved- you've told me of your Africa,
and I've longed to see Kericho, and the lovely
green fields of tea- the flavor embodied
in the top two leaves and the buds of Kenyan chai.
I could almost see the kinsmen of your heart
walking through the fields, singing beautiful songs,
laughing and flashing bright colors in the wind and rain.
How many died in the fields today?
So strange to grieve so deeply for a place and a people
I have never seen except through your eyes. But I do,
Beloved. I mourn the ebony of midnight skies,
the white diamonds scattered within, the red
of an African sunset, and the blood
seeping into the emerald fields.
7 January 2008, 12:17 PM
O, Beloved- you've told me of your Africa,
and I've longed to see Kericho, and the lovely
green fields of tea- the flavor embodied
in the top two leaves and the buds of Kenyan chai.
I could almost see the kinsmen of your heart
walking through the fields, singing beautiful songs,
laughing and flashing bright colors in the wind and rain.
How many died in the fields today?
So strange to grieve so deeply for a place and a people
I have never seen except through your eyes. But I do,
Beloved. I mourn the ebony of midnight skies,
the white diamonds scattered within, the red
of an African sunset, and the blood
seeping into the emerald fields.
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