RAILA ODINGA'S WORD

Listen to our "Ker," (this Luo word has no accurate English translation! so bare with me) Prime Minister Raila Odinga, the man who says that he has been teargassed so many times that he has permanent eye damage. That is part of the tragic price the modern warrior has paid for valor. (It this kind of downpayment for freedom and democracy made in a warrior's blood and health that makes the poet's pen and voice quiver as he implores Rateng' to let the Bride Go in "RATENG' AND BRIDE"). PM Odinga mourns the lives needlessly sacrificed during the struggle to have people's votes and voices respected after the 2007 Kenya Presidential Election. He says that existing relics of a (colonial) civic structure and occupying (PNU) functionaries have frustrated the implementation of agreed points in his coalition government with President Kibaki.

Read the Standard:
http://www.eastandard.net/InsidePage.php?id=1144003675&cid=4&
http://www.eastandard.net/InsidePage.php?id=1144003676&cid=4&

I am Kenyan: A word of Caution in Poetry

Here are some lines of poetry dedicated to the upcoming anniversary of the bungled Kenyan Presidential Election of 2007, specifically mourning those who lost their lives in the tragic events that would follow. The country is moving ahead with reforms, thanks to a few brave men and women who heeded Dr. Kofi Annan's call for peace and reconciliation at the negotiation table, and the efforts of two men, Kriegler and Waki whose commissions gave us report recommendations on the way forward. Prime Minister Odinga and President Kibaki must be commended for their courage to stand against partisan interests, and stake out their personal honor for peace and Kenya.

But Kenya is for Kenyans not a few individuals. A new constitutional arrangement that serves all Kenyans, big and small, rich and poor, man or woman, able-bodied or physically challenged, will only be a reality if all Kenyans insist on it--not as tribes but as Kenyans. Parliament has set the process in motion, and what document comes out of it must be seen to be Kenyan and by Kenyans.

Fellow Kenyan

I am Kenyan,
My mother is a Kikuyu
And my father is a Luo
My great-grandfathers
Were Kamba and Maasai;
Now you are telling me
To leave Narok, Kisumu,
Nyandarua, Kakamega and Nakuru
And go back
To my ancestral land:
To which ancestral land
Should I return?



Fellow Kenyan,
We always shared
in our poverty and misery;
Why then have we turned
One against another?

Fellow Kenyan,
Will this destructive war
Help us extricate ourselves
Out of the quagmire
Of filth and poverty in which
We have found ourselves?

Fellow Kenyan,
This wasteful war
Won’t quench your child’s hunger
Neither will it provide
Any decent shelter
To my child;

Fellow Kenyan,
This wasteful war
Won’t put food on your table
And neither will it
pay my house rent;

Fellow Kenyan,
This wasteful war
Won’t pay your bus-fare,
Neither will it buy
My child’s malaria medication.

Fellow Kenyan,
Yes, the tribe
Is part of our DNA,
But Dear Kenya—
As imperfect a vessel as it is–
Is part of our existence;

And So, Fellow Kenyan,
We must refuse
To be tagged with such divisive,
And self-serving labels as
A Luyia lawyer,
or a JaLuo Judge;

A Kikuyu cook,
An Ishimus in-keeper,
A Maasai mathematician,
A Mjikenda magician
or a Gusii gunsmith;

A Kuria cleric,
An Oriek orator,
A Borana banker,
A Somali swordsmith,
or a Teso tax-collector;

Because when hunger
Struck during the last drought
Kikuyu, Luyia, and JaLuo
in Nairobi; We all starved;
And pangs of hunger
And incidents of malnutrition
Did not discriminate
On the basis of tribe;

And if the tables
were full in Woodley,
Runda and Muthaiga;
And empty in Mathare,
Korogocho and Kibera;
It wasn’t because
Of anybody’s DNA.


So, Fellow Kenyan
Why tag me with a label
Which cannot put food
On the table
For my starving daughter?

Why tag me with a label
Which can not buy
Badly needed medication
For my sick child?

Why tag me with a label
Which only has value
To a geneticist?

Fellow Kenyan,
What happened to the Kenya
We used to know
That now you laugh
Through my tribulations,
And can’t suffer my pain
Because I am a Turgen
And you are a JaLuo?

From RATENG' AND BRIDE (A POEM)By Joseph R. Alila https://www.createspace.com/3346481

ISBN/EAN13:
1438251092 / 9781438251097

BOOK RELEASE: NOT ON MY SKIN

NOT ON MY SKIN

A Novel By Joseph R. Alila, ISBN 143-825527-6; EAN 13: 978-1438255279. Published by http://www.createspace.com/, An Amazon.com Company, IS NOW AVAILABLE FOR SALE from http://www.amazon.com/.

FROM THE BOOK JACKET

In JR Alila's "NOT ON MY SKIN," the all-American City of Harmony is not exactly harmonious. That is the conclusion of Ochome, a poet and suburbanite, who has staked out his evenings compositing verses in the city's Oak Street Café from where the American life plays itself out before his analytical eyes. Ochome discovers that Harmony City's peace is only skin deep; wherever he turns, he sees, hears, and constantly feels souls cursing in various nuances of "not on my skin"-- a protest mantra against nuances of prejudice he sees, hears and feels in the city café and beyond. The Café crowd has a few regulars, notably the verbally-disengaged Quartet of Sam, Pierre the snoop, Ochome , and Frank. But the hero is the diabolical Alex, a man considered a mad nuisance by all, but who, in reality, is the only mirror and gong off which Harmony City perhaps can see and hear itself--the same way a child's innocent words are the real measure of the moral quality of life in a home.

Posted by Joseph R Alila (AUTHOR)

NOT ON MY SKIN (A Novel)

NOT ON MY SKIN (A Novel By Joseph R. Alila) ISBN 143-825527-6; EAN 13: 978-1438255279.
Published by http://www.createspace.com/, An Amazon.com Company www.amazon.com/books.

Fans,
My next literary voyage has landed me on the shores of the Americas. It is from here that I bring to you a work of fiction I have struggled with for a couple of years--long before I received any inspiration to write, THE MILAYI CURSE, SINS OF OUR HEARTS, RATENG' AND BRIDE, or WHISPER TO MY ACHING HEART--all of which have seen the light of day.
Here comes NOT ON MY SKIN, a novel in honor our many Safaris and awakenings in the wider diaspora.

SYNOPSIS

In Alila's "NOT ON MY SKIN," the all-American City of Harmony is not exactly harmonious. That is the conclusion of Ochome, a poet and suburbanite, who has staked out his evenings compositing verses in the city's Oak Street Café from where the American life plays itself out before his analytical eyes. Ochome discovers that Harmony City's peace is only skin deep; wherever he turns, he sees, hears, and constantly feels souls cursing in various nuances of "not on my skin"-- a protest mantra against nuances of prejudice he sees, hears and feels in the city café and beyond. The Café crowd has a few regulars, notably the verbally-disengaged Quartet of Sam, Pierre the snoop, Ochome , and Frank. But the hero is the diabolical Alex, a man considered a mad nuisance by all, but who, in reality, is the only mirror and gong off which Harmony City perhaps can see and hear itself--the same way a child's innocent words are the real measure of the moral quality of life in a home.

No Retreat, Says Raila's ODM.

No retreat says Raila's ODM.
High emotions in Kisumu and Kakamega Mourning Services.

Read link

JR Alila


http://www.eastandard.net/news/?id=1143980761

Agwambomania is here

Guests,
The pangs and perils of multiethnic, multiparty democracy have caught up with Kenyan political wise men. Their crytal balls are getting muckier by the hour; thanks to a phenomenon known as Agwambomania. The illusive winning formula is being sought by major parties, each of which is trying to woo and swallow the smaller parties in marriages of convenience. Will it be ODM, ODM-K or HIBAKI TENA PARTY?
Read The Wise One of Ramogiland by Joseph R. Alila (ISBN 14303-2554-3) for essential orientation in the game of wise men and tribal chiefs in Kenyan Politics.


Joseph R