Do not fall for me yet, for I Am Still a blossoming shoot, An intricate stage am at with love Too sharp to touch too soon. Before I am touched, I need to grow More full in golden light.


I need to smile upon my earth, And rule some patch of night. I need to know what roads and fields lie in my sphere And dull my brand new trance -like state

Do not force me to fall for you, For I am like a butterfly in its pupal stage. Help me out of the cocoon and you will have me killed. Let me learn by fighting my way out While you watch and wait.

My wounds are fresh, With pain that of an unlucky villain In a John Wick – like movie. who’s Feeling the incarceration noose tightening round his neck. He can dare not run for freedom no matter what opportunity avails itself, For that’s the only place he feels safe. That is my pain.


My heart is still in black and white. Pumping blood with no sight of affection. I only need the love of some blank girl, as cold and dark as me, That we might grope for the unknown in full ignorance And fear of what might be. And then, when I’m a silver bowl And know what I can hold.  Then, perhaps, we could try love. If you are not too old.



We are born, they laugh Our anniversary day, they feast We crawl, we talk, we walk Life happens, we part Years pass, weird stuff, we die They meet up, they mourn Small groups, there’s weeping, and wailing. But what is life? In this lifeless body.

 Why do we have to be friends? If we are going to love each other only to leave each other behind. Were we even one or I just assumed? I did not even get a chance to say I love you. A word I have learnt to misuse.


You were gone before we got that far. All I know is now I really miss you, Yet when I look for you, you are not there. You were once for you would never forget me, Yet how am I to know without you here?

Such emptiness! Like what I feel within me: Neither flesh nor tears, just cold thin choking air. Sometimes alone, I feel your arms around me, And all my need for you, spills out in pain. Jagged memories of you surround me. I will be fine, but still never got the chance.





I need you as a beggar needs,

Shelter through the cold night

Or as a dusty dry land needs a raindrop,

The sweet scent aroma that arise.


I need you as the blind man requires,

his walking sticks to move,

Or as a soul in search of faith,

Is rescued by some sign.


I need you as a toddler needs teeth,

For you are as much a part of me,

As the ocean’s color is to the sky,

Or as a song is to a broken heart.


I need you as a fish needs water,

Or a sparrow the wind,

Or as a volcano seeks the fault lines,

The pressure notwithstanding.


 I need you the way a queen’s flesh yearns for fine linen.

Or as lonely man desperate for a soulmate,

As a patient short of oxygen,

But ah! do you really need me?




Ratolo Snr


Africa, still plains full of rivers, with Sleuth-like flow headed into the Woods,

Where there lies a leafy garden with spring of water from the uplands,

where flapping purple Ibis wake the drowsy frogs;

There we hid our fairy cask, Full of berries

And of juiciest hand-picked cherries.

Come out, Ye African child!

For the clouds are gathering,

And the pale sky is full of somber mood.


Where the sharp eyes of the moon glosses

The dim grey sands with light, Far off by furthest thickets

We foot it all the night, with the fairest of women,

Weaving their bum-cheeks to the beats of olden dances,

 this side and to that side. Till the moon has taken flight.

Come out, Ye African child!

For the clouds are gathering,

And the pale sky is full of somber mood.


To and fro we used to leap

And chase the frothy bubbles,

Till our heels could hurt no more

While the world is full of troubles

And is anxious in its sleep.

Come out, Ye African child!

For the clouds are gathering,

And the pale sky is full of somber mood.


Where the cattle rustlers attack by the night,

and instill fear amongst the senile and juveniles,

but the bravest warriors are not moved. for they can count your leadership on.

With war chants we did triumph.

And the captured wish they’d sped for the hills.

Come out, Ye African child!

For the clouds are gathering,

And the pale sky is full of somber mood.


Africa so cruel you are, can’t you save your only son,

from this ogre called death? You couldn’t find the best medicine men?

 Not even the whites that come aboard huge metallic birds; planes.

Remember his efforts oh mother nature. Aren’t you moved by the women wailing?

his sons and daughter too? Death, what scares you? A warrior you’ve humbled in the casket.

Come out, Ye African child!

For the clouds are gathering,

And the pale sky is full of somber mood.


Away from us he’s going, The solemn-eyed: dreary atmosphere.

He’ll hear no more the lowing, Of the cattle on the warm hillside, or sit with the elderly to sip,

 the traditional brew from the same strawed pots. None of these matters to him anymore.

Not even the fruits of hard fought freedom. Oh Africa you have betrayed your son.

Whose umbilical cord you keep, in your dried up soil beneath. Your flesh, your blood

Come out, Ye African child!

For the clouds are gathering,

And the pale sky is full of somber mood.





1: Dear son,If you keep spending on a woman and she never ask you if you are saving or investing,and… She keeps enjoying the attention,don’t marry her.

2: My son, a woman could be a good wife to you,some could be a good mother to your children, but if you have found a woman like a mother to you,your children and your family, never let her go.

3: My son, don’t confine the position of your wife in the kitchen, where did you get that from?Even during my father’s days, they had farm-lands where women too worked every morning…that was their office.

4: My son, if I tell you that you are the head of the house,don’t look at your pocket: Look if you will see a smile on your wife’s face.

5: My son, I you want to have a long life, let your wife be in charge of your salary. It will be difficult for her to spend it when she’s aware of the home needs and bills to pay. But if it’s in your care, she will keep asking you even when all has been spent.

6: My son, DON’T EVER beat your woman. The pain in her body is nothing compared to the wound on her heart and that means you may be in trouble living with a wounded woman.

7: My son, now that you’re married, if you live a bachelor kind of life with your wife, you will soon be single again.

8: My son, during my father’s days, they had many wives and many children because of their large farm-lands and many harvests, there are hardly any land for farming anymore,so embrace your one woman closely.

9: My son, from here am going old school with you. See under the mango tree that I did meet your mother could be eateries and restaurants of nowadays,but remember, the closest thing we did there was to embrace each other.

10: My son, don’t b carried away when you start making money, instead of spending on those tiny legs that never knew how hard you worked to get it, spend it on the woman that stood by you all along.

11: My son, when I threw little stones or whistled at the window of your mother father’s house to call her out, it was not for sex,it was because I missed her so much.

12: My son, remember, when you say your wife has changed, there could be something you’ve stopped doing too.

13: My son, your mother used public means we called ‘Matatus’ where we used to squeeze in with strangers before we could buy that old car you see outside. Any woman that won’t endure with you in your little beginning should not enjoy your riches.

14: My son, don’t compare your wife to any other woman, there are ways she’s enduring you too and she has she ever compared you to any man?

15: My son, there is this thing you people are calling FEMINISM.Well, if a a woman claims to have equal rights with you in the house, divide ALL the bills into equal parts,take one part and ask her to start paying the other.

16: My son, I met your mother a virgin and I took more heads of cattle to her father, if you don’t meet your wife a virgin,don’t blame her,what I didn’t tell you is that our women had prestige.

17: My son, I didn’t send your sisters to school because I was foolish like many to think a female child won’t extend my family name.Please don’t make that mistake. The kind of female achievers I see nowadays has made the male-gender an ordinary tag.

18: My son, your mother has once locked up the cloth I was wearing and almost tore it because she was angry. I did not raise my hand to beat her because of a day like this, so that I can be proud to tell you that I never once beat your mother.

19: My son,in our days,our women had more of natural beauty,though I wouldn’t lie to you,some had minor painting on their appellation mostly on their arms,the ones you people are calling Tattoos. I will not also lie to you, I didn’t like them that much. However, don’t forget that they didn’t expose any part of their body like I see Nowadays.

20: My son, your mother and I are not interested in what happens in your marriage,try to handle issues without always coming to us.

21: My son, remember I bought your mother’s first sewing machine for her, help your wife achieve her dreams just as you are pursuing yours.

22: My son, if at any given moment you feel like your partner’s decisions or generally your partner is in some way giving you unreasonable or unnecessary pressure, Don’t marry her. Consider it as mother nature’s red flags, don’t be blinded to compromise by strong feelings coming from that liar called heart.

23: My son, don’t stop taking care of me and your mother. It’s a secret of growing old and having children to take care of you too.

24: My son,Pray with your family, there is a tomorrow you know nothing about. Talk to God that knows everything, everyday.




Young girl you still were when you had me. Like the rest Mama you had an option. A big decision to make. Your life over a baby…(Me)… of course I won, a reason am writing you this. Am proud you chose to carry me mom. Why didn’t you go with career like the rest by the way? 😊 tough choice for such a young pretty girl then. Pretty you still are to date .

With a lot of struggle mummy, you brought me to this world. Must have been nine very long months before my big day. But for me you risked and endured.

You denied yourself the luxuries of the world, sacrificing the little you had. Just to ensure I could get the best. With barely enough to fill your stomach, mama you still fed me well. Well enough for a baby to get sleep. How did you find the energy, Mom? To do all the things you did, To be a Teacher, Counselor,Shepherd & Nurse to me?

How did you do it all, Mom? Be a Chauffeur, Cook and Friend,
And still find time to be a Playmate? I just can’t comprehend.

A habit of stealing sugar I had formed. Let’s say it was the devil. Hadn’t you not shown me the right direction then, maybe I wouldn’t be reading out this to you today. Thank you my first Teacher.

School was never my everyday cup of tea mother…but with the best mom it became a need. I just had to give it the best I had, or at least try. Thank you my first Counselor.

In the ways of the Lord mama you brought me up. Molded in the word, foundation deep from Sunday school days. Bible on my right, my offertory on the left. Your mantra being; “A prayer a day keeps the devil away’’. With that I have grown Mama. Thank you my first Shepherd

Today this letter I hand you. Thanks giving is all I’ve got. Today I stand here to remind you of a gem that you are. Always patient with my ignorance. You give guidance when I ask. seems you can do almost anything; a master of every task.
You’ve been a dependable source of comfort; helping in times of trouble.
You’ve always been my cushion whenever I fall; supporting me whenever I call.
thank you for the care my first Nurse.

Asante Sana.
Happy Mother’s day…

My Nagging Wife


My wife is well known like a queen by her subjects, far and wide and beyond. Stories of her beauty are not only told in our village alone, but rather they surpass beyond the ranges of Chyulu Hills. The sight of her can only be compared to the Sunset view of the East African sun atop Mt. Kilimanjaro. You see… She is a whirlwind of exquisiteness. Extremities of a higher power’s artwork.


But it is not just her shape or the natural sideways inclination of her figure that strike you at first sight. Her nose is a miracle. Perfect shape and size. Not too short to be mistaken for a Koala, or too long to give her hard time while seeping hot coffee; a pale white-man’s problem. Am guessing God used the perfect Chisel to shape it from that clay. A standing ovation for a job perfectly done.


A friend I barely knew shared something about women of today. His advice  was something like this: My son, a piece of advice to you when looking for a woman. On your first meeting, ask her if she is single. And please, add that you don’t want her to be single for you. Define single if you can. Thus; unmarried or not involved in a stable relationship. Also, unwed, unattached, free, a bachelorette,solo! All this my wife has passed with flying colors. Another applause


With all that beauty,It was not so much love at first sight, but rather a Taser to my heart that jolted me out of my life of debauchery. She was sunshine in bodily form. One look at her and she made me want to do better. Be better. Be worthy of her. And I did not have the foggiest idea how to accomplish that. I had never cared before or bothered to make an effort. I was entering uncharted territory.


A few months into this new territory, this institution and I risk losing my hair. Reason? constant scratching of my scalp like a tick-infested red Columbus monkey, looking for the tiny creatures in its colorful fur. The idiomatic expression of ‘tie the knot’ makes sense now more than ever. The tiny ring on my finger looks more like a handcuff, am stuck, am fixed, I got myself here, I only looked at her outer beauty, not the heart. She is so good from far yes, but far from good. This marriage… My wife… My nagging wife…


On Monday, she didn’t like the food at home. She was craving those rolling chicken that drip of oil. We had to throw away whatever I thought I had prepared for her.


On Tuesday the house was too dull for her, she wanted fresh air. Meet her friends. I had work to do but I had to go meet her pals. They were also coming with their men. I hear its the latest trend. I obliged though unwillingly.


Wednesday came hard on me. I was craving my African meal. Ugali. A hot white one. Cooked by bare chest, African legends have it that its the only best known recipe. My wife refused, there is no way she is competing with caterpillars to eat veggies accompanied with steamed white corn flour.


On Thursday I never saw my wife, she says she did not feel like seeing me so she spent the night at a friend. I came to learn of it at 12 am when I was being reminded through a text message to pay for her cab in the morning. Can’t the friend cater for her transport too?


On Fridays I was  alone in our favorite joint. The music  too loud for me. The usual faces were surprised I was not with my rib . My wife was no where to be seen. I heard she left the office a bit earlier claiming that she had a headache. The family doctor has not heard from her, her phone was off when I called. A friend has saw her heading towards uptown. I love and know her.I thought she’d  join me later…By midnight I was still hopeful…


Saturday is here with a bright smile. What a way to start the day. the birds are out and so are the neighbor’s kids. But my wife…? She is deep asleep. Headache, fatigue and dizziness. Should I call the doctor? No Hun I know what’s the problem. I think I might be pregnant. What? Who? Why? When? Where? How!?. No straight answer given. She now craves veggies; Healthy for the mother, healthy for the baby too, an unborn I know not the father.I still love my wife. We shall pray and over come.


Today, we start a new chapter. Or maybe its the final straw to this journey. She wants me to move to our own house and buy her a car. Taking a cab she’s left for university girls. Her girlfriend has her own classy  machine,a German one, 2000 CC. It is not even expensive imagine…she says. I think I’ve heard enough for today. No more visiting our parents to talk, no more disturbing our elders to settle issues, no more living the way so and so does, or eating, or visiting places, or buying what we saw at your friend’s place.


Today am asking for the key to this small cuffs. Am releasing this bird to fly back to its owners. I will go back to the village and beg the elders for mercy. And apologize for wasting their time. But most importantly, I thank the gods for you are still beautiful as I had found you, Getting a new man shouldn’t be a problem. Just a small scratch in the womb but I know whoever is responsible will fix it. Furthermore you are a strong woman with strong ambitions.


Now Fly fly fly away my beautiful bird. For the clouds are gathering and we can’t wait till Monday. The weatherman said it will rain heavily, The Summer monsoon is charging towards us… If you wait a bit longer am not sure your weak feathers will carry you I don’t think now my little nest can sustain us both I still love you but as a human we shared an isle with I will try do what your friends do every day of the week But away you go my sweet bird, away you go my nagging wife.