Friday, June 20, 2008


Two communities once co existed in peace
But because the world is not a fair place
One was getting stronger too fast
Much to the chagrin of their neighbors.
The strong ones were just crafty farmers
While their friends; warrior cattlemen.
This inequality made the broth boil faster

The strong always trample on the weak
It’s not an excuse, its just how it is.
The poor got trampled on as the broth bubbled
The broth got so hot and blew away the pots cover;
So that the broth spilled over the red firewood.
The warriors stood up, the trampling was too much.
Numbers and strength did not matter, they won.

The crafty old farmers being crafty, sat down and thought
The young men who had not been slaughtered sat down too
And held hands and minds
“Muingi”;they called their group, The mass.
The warriors had only won the fight, not the battle
The mass protected their people, the old were happy
But the mass amassed strength day after day

The fights, wars and battles were over, what was next?
The mass had nothing to do now.
But they were young their blood was rushy.
Living is work, so they had to eat, but food was scarce..
The pot over the fireplace was getting hot
The young men became disgruntled and angry
And their anger was turned to the crafty crafters.

The pot over the fireplace in the hut
Got too hot, the fire was too strong.
But this pot was different, it was not mature
When the broth got too hot it boiled too strongly,
The cover was not blown off; the pot itself burst.
The women, children and old men who waited
Only got scalded and went to bed hungry.

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