I wish I could forget.

It hurts a lot that we live in a country where fear is the only strength that we have left. The sounds of bullets, bomb blasts and the cries from horrific deaths are the songs that we can't stop our ears from hearing. Terror has painted horrific images in our hearts that we cant stop our eyes from seeing, dreams that we cant help to wake up from. Death after death, pain after pain, our eyes have shed painful tears that Only God can measure. 


I wish I could forget is a poem I created believing that One day, Kenya will be safe. 

I may forget everything,

but I cannot forget that stunning beauty that attracted all the nations to you. 
I cannot forget that innocent face,
and that dazzling smile that welcomed everyone home.
The charming queen you used to be, 
and that love that made us feel at home.

But what happened my motherland?
A country that grew up so beautiful, so peaceful, so colorful, so cheerful, 
so wealthy, so healthy,
and like mother-hen, you fed and protected all your family.
You were a home to the tourists, a hope to the refugees and a role model to many.

I believed in you Kenya,

and you raised my hopes so high above the planet's horizons,
only to find out my dreams shattered and scattered, by the winds of terror.
A nation that once taught me the meaning of brotherhood, has turned completely so foreign, so strange.
Home has never felt like home since you were torn apart.

What happened my motherland?

Why are you so gloomy?
Why are you so bloody?
Why have you turned to grey?

Look, Look, Look at the way we live in fear today
Who robbed your peace away?
Your confidence, your happiness your love, your strength, your beauty.
Why would you let them steal your peace and tear you into pieces?
Pieces that are no longer willing to unite again?

Where is the freedom that our heroes fought for?
Where is it, if we don’t feel safe in our own country, in our homes, in our schools, 
on our roads, not even in the church?

The movies we used to watch, have turned into reality. 
Hard to accept. Hard to forget.
And every day we watch a series of losses.
Losses of shortened innocent lives set to the graves.

How will we wake up from the nightmares of the post-election violence?

The violence that took our parents away?
Our siblings, our relatives, our neighbors, our friends.
That violence that left many crippled, disabled and depressed.
The violence that burnt many to ashes, to nothing.
That man-made violence that left orphans and widows, 
in the IDP Camps, in the streets anguished and alone.

How will we wake up from the horrific dreams of 

GARRISA GENOCIDE?  
MANDERA GENOCIDE?
WESTGATE ATTACK?  
KAPEDO ATTACKS? 
MPEKETONI ATTACKS?

MUNGIKI KILLINGS? 

ASSASINATIONS?   
ROAD ACCIDENTS?
BOMB BLASTS? 
ROBBERIES? 
RAPE? 

How will we wake up from them if you cannot protect us Kenya?
If the leaders we expect to protect us are the betrayers? 
So loathsome, so corrupt.
If we live in a country where the eyes of a five year–old, 
have already been taught how a tear gas tastes like, 
and that child knows clearly the difference between that teargas,
and the smoke that blazed their home down into ashes during an attack.
If we live in a country where a two year old knows clearly the difference between the sound of a bullet and that of a bomb blast.

The untold thoughts that live in our hearts, 

those thoughts that make us feel like there is a funeral within us. 
The unanswered questions, the pain, the fear. 
Can never disappear without peace, without security.

But I still believe in you My motherland, 
I still believe in you My government.
I still have a dream that you can make a history of Peace, Unity, 
a true story of Security.

I still believe that, ‘A people United shall never be defeated.'
And this time around, it’s no longer a song; it’s no longer a quote nor a slogan, 
but an action.

It’s never too late and you are never too weak KENYA, to do away with the first two letters of the word inSECURITY.

Written By Elizabeth Opiyo

This is the last Day of 2014

Goodbye is the only word and the only option I have left. If I say 'See You Soon', I’ll be naturally lying. It’s a reality that I’ll never see you again. It’s so painful but you leave no choice. If you were a lover, I'd die and let you live, if you were a kiss you would be the sweetest, the deepest and the lifetime's best; and if you were a hug, I would stick and cling to you forever. I love the fact that you’ve left me with sweet memories and a brand new 2015. You were sincerely an awesome and a beautiful year. Goodbye Sweet 2014.

Goodbye 2014

I can only say GOODBYE to 2014 because I can't say see YOU SOON 2014 as its clearly impossible. Thank God for He favoured you till the end of the year. Many lives were lost in Kenya but he spared you for a reason.

2014 has been quite an awesome year. It started too dark yet has ended up brighter than I ever imagined. All the challenges, all the mistakes, all the happiness, all the love and all the bitterness that came along in the course of the year were a lesson that have left me stronger than ever before. I met friends with different personalities. Friends who built me, encouraged and inspired me. Thanks to Evelyne Baraza, a true friend who impacted my life and challenged me to take risks, explore and take my talent to another level.

I had never known the power of a talent until I met her and gave it a try. I have found true happiness in poetry and life has never felt this good until I found this amazing self-realization. I'm fascinated by the idea of spoken word poetry. I could not feign deafness to poetry anymore and decided to embrace it with might. I wish for a day I'll be able to write a poem that will easily find its way into the Museum Exhibits and a poem that will leave a legacy as the only proof that I existed and utilised my God given talent. I thank God for the beautiful 2014 and all the people He brought into my life. I also thank Him for a blessing of another year, 2015!!!

Animals Deserve a life

Have you ever asked yourself why God created animals? Have you ever questioned yourself why just like you and me, they breath, eat, play, move, feel pain and even speak their own language. Have you ever imagined a world without these animals? They are so important than you can imagine and so friendly if we could let them be. Let us value them and show them some friendship.

Poor African Woman

Her fate was determined by culture
Circumcision was her rite to a bright future

In a world where her right for education never existed,

Seems like she was an economic burden to her family

So her father priced her for two cows and four goats,

On her way to the river, she got married.
And that evening, she would graduate from a damsel to a tenth wife

Her stunning beauty would be imprisoned for life

Poor African Woman
Her life deeply rooted in regrets, sorrow and pain
So Innocent

So Destitute

So Helpless
So Hopeless

But her voice NO ONE could hear.

Composed and written by Elizabeth Opiyo

                                                

Dont Give Up

The Type

Sarah Kay is extraordinarily talented in poetry and she has always been an inspiration, a teacher and a role model to me. Below is one of her poems that I would like to share with you.......

Everyone needs a place. It shouldn't be inside of someone else. -Richard Siken


The Type
If you grow up the type of woman men want to look at,
you can let them look at you. But do not mistake eyes for hands.
Or windows.
Or mirrors.
Let them see what a woman looks like.
They may not have ever seen one before.

If you grow up the type of woman men want to touch,
you can let them touch you.
Sometimes it is not you they are reaching for.
Sometimes it is a bottle. A door. A sandwich. A Pulitzer. Another woman.
But their hands found you first. Do not mistake yourself for a guardian.
Or a muse. Or a promise. Or a victim. Or a snack.
You are a woman. Skin and bones. Veins and nerves. Hair and sweat.
You are not made of metaphors. Not apologies. Not excuses.

If you grow up the type of woman men want to hold,
you can let them hold you.
All day they practice keeping their bodies upright--
even after all this evolving, it still feels unnatural, still strains the muscles,
holds firm the arms and spine. Only some men will want to learn
what it feels like to curl themselves into a question mark around you,
admit they do not have the answers
they thought they would have by now;
some men will want to hold you like The Answer.
You are not The Answer.
You are not the problem. You are not the poem
or the punchline or the riddle or the joke.

Woman. If you grow up the type men want to love,
You can let them love you.
Being loved is not the same thing as loving.
When you fall in love, it is discovering the ocean
after years of puddle jumping. It is realizing you have hands.
It is reaching for the tightrope when the crowds have all gone home.

Do not spend time wondering if you are the type of woman
men will hurt. If he leaves you with a car alarm heart, you learn to sing along.
It is hard to stop loving the ocean. Even after it has left you gasping, salty.
Forgive yourself for the decisions you have made, the ones you still call
mistakes when you tuck them in at night. And know this:
Know you are the type of woman who is searching for a place to call yours.
Let the statues crumble.
You have always been the place.

You are a woman who can build it yourself.
You were born to build.

It's Me

Creative Arts

She hid the pain

(Of all the things I miss, I miss my mother's smile the most)

The Cry of the Infants