Poem: Yaani, Nimechoka (I AM TIRED)

I feel like a shoe sole
Like I am being used to step over sewage waste,
The murky waters of touts and their nemesis
And I, the piece of rubber,
caught up between steel and tarmac

Matatus have become the den of tongue lashing touts,
Music blaring speakers,
High speed driving morons,
Disco lighting effects,
Porno spitting shop,
Money extorting thieves,
Bongo playing mobile discos,
Incoherently crunking sounds,
Tyre displaying bottoms,
Panty showing females,
Traffic causing stunts,
Yaani, nimechoka

I called it our way of life,
I called it our culture
For we are caught between romantic thoughts of a culture we never knew and,
Bitter realities of what our lives have become
Matatus are the mix in our new culture of,
Junk food eating,
Brown beers guzzling,
Weekend club hopping,
Nyamachoma at Njuguna’s eating,
Foreign footbal teams cheering,
Network end month conjesting,
Dirty mugithi listening,
Disco floors shikanain’g,
To digz, Matatu taking
Yaani, nimechoka

Nimechoka na mat zimechoka
Nimechoka na madame wamechoka na bado wana misuse make up, si wa meze choka
Nimechoka na wazee wamechoka na bado wanataka masupuu, si waulize machokaa, yaani, Fred Obachi
Nimechoka na machokoraa kwa chochoro wakisorora na kupigana ngeta
Yaani, nimechoka.

April 09
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