Waruguru Wa Kiai

#3 Drum beats and Moraa; The End.

Drum Beats Started Again…

I presented your case to the elders
I bet they thought I was growing wilder
With each inch that got the gap wider
They said I should make my move
That its time I declare my love
That they’d help if its cows I didn’t have

Moraa, I know no one is flawless
No one stands perfect and blameless
So brace yourself, for I am not the hunter that’s bowless
Yet still I don’t wanna be a slave
I wanna show you what it means to be brave
I wanna be the one to misshape your curve

Don’t tie me behind your back like a sheep
I just wanna take you to sleep
To love and not to worship
Please don’t take advantage of my meek
Open your heart and tell the truth when we speak
Remember your words could hurt my heart with a prick

He Continued…
Moraa its time you take advantage
How long do I have to see wait to hear a yes?
How much more effort should make you mine?
Tell me Moraa
I want to know!

What type of a woman are you?
Who rejects a man with a Range Rover Evoque?
Don’t pretend you don’t feel me
I know you read my poems with you hand in your pants
Why then do you keep that yes too long
I want to know!

The more you keep me waiting
The more my heart hurts
They say hearts are wild, that’s why ribs are cages
But tell me Moraa
What’s hurts, child birth or a kick on the balls
I want to know!

Being with you is a risk of heartbreaks
But I guess life is all about taking the risk
Moraa this is not a trick
So don’t treat me like you treat them
If its a cork you need, I’ve got one
I know one is never enough
But at least this does not get finished like soap
So tell me Moraa, are you for it?
I want you now!

I told him my truth…

Congratulations, I am pregnant!
your seed fills my stomach up to my stomach
bloated with your son
I have forgotten the colour of my feet.
Drums, I now roam the village like a giant elephant harvesting soil from ant kingdoms
spitting like you did that night.

The elders summoned me yesterday
for hours they made me sit under a tree
floating on a three legged attempt of a seat
counting your son’s kicks.
I did not present any case to the elders
they barked out their verdict
harsh and blunt.
they accuse you of breaking my leg
of eating things that are not yet yours
of pricking seals without asking for keys
of planting on fields not yours
they are not happy.

Listen to what they say,
they have heard of your intentions,
to creep up on me on Kenya Poets Lounge,
they have read all your poems urging me to reconsider my love for you
they have concluded them to be unauthorized love messages infested with sweet nothings
and they cannot wait for the gods to strike you dead,
unless you travel to my village with a convoy of thirty Keroka Sacco Matatus flunked four hundred cows and goats -one for each day,
the elders insist on song and dance, enough to last for seven days
frothy drinks must flow to appease the gods
and lastly, you must travel to Nyeri where women are men
and beg waruguru wa kiai to pen down songs in praise of my beauty
failure to which, your ‘meat’ will disappear.
I beg you Drums, do not fail for which meat will I swing on
if yours goes?

I did not insist on your Range Rover Sport
they did – they want you to park it in my father’s homestead, hang the key on the Avocado tree
and walk away without turning back.
they are not stupid, they can read and bank cheques in Equity bank
especially the one that you will write will all those zero at the end.
They are yet to hear of anyone who boiled love and ate it for lunch
they are tired of your love songs!

I really tried to plead on your behalf
but one elder reminded them of your insults and
how you taunted my pale thighs
and lied about my hips.
they want you – dead or alive
to lie prostrate before them
and swear never to hurt me again
as you have always done.

If you love me as much as you say you do
if your heart cannot kill the hurt
If my absence torments you as you claim
travel to the village and confess your sins
it is then that I will listen to you.
on your way, do not forget to carry a new mattress
it is all I eat, Chei! your son loves mattress just like you.

Then Life happened…
Its 1.30 am,
Penises are done singing the anthem,
Some lie freely in satisfaction,
Others sulk in dissatisfaction,
Facing the roof I still lay here,
With these faces my face could cause fear
But the truth is getting clearer once more
My love is no more.

She who stood with me through thick and thin
She who watched the pastures fade from green
The young ripe girl from Kisii land
With assets that brought men to her ground
Moraa died during creation
Moraa took died with my generation.

As the boys will be singing holla
I will sit by her graveside, mourning Moraa
Why did nature have to steal the only hope
I am left with nothing but a loop-knotted rope
She was great among greats, kid among kids
She pleased many by her deeds

Moraa could have been a mother
And I could have been the father
I hoped she’d be strong on that maternity bed
What happened to be her death bed
Now a siren wail from Nyeri to Kisiiland
As my eyes with tears flood
Six feet deep they rest,
My life stands still, like a test of time!

and this was moraa’s  last letter…

Drum beats, the whole village now knows your name
she wailed your name for three nights
even as life left her
it is your name she whispered.
She fell on her way to the stream
the beyond zero Ambulance had traveled to save the Governor’s daughter suffering from a wasp bite,
she bled a river, the midwife gave her an ultimatum -her life or her baby’s life.
she requested to write before they fed her on bitter herbs
meant to hasten labour.

She said – Dear beats, my heart beat
I will always love you
I gift you with a child, even though I will not see her
or hold her in my arms
I know she will be a girl.
Take her, raise her to the heavens
and name her Moraa.
I Pray that she torments you with her beautiful blue eyes
and when she blossoms
I hope you never sleep-chasing after every boy who looks her way,
I hope you dance with her like a princess
like we did when we met.
I hope she runs into your arms just like me.
I hope your heart stops at the sight of her
I hope you walk behind her like the soldier I know you to be
and when she falls in love
take her hand, let her head rest on your shoulder
promise never to leave her.
If ever she asks of me
show her my pictures, the ones you stole to hang on your bed,
remind her of my beauty
and narrate my stubborn tales
to inspire her innocent heart
drums, you remain my heart beat.

It was after she penned your name
that she wailed forth your child
a beautiful baby girl
she tried to hold the baby
but death was in a hurry to collect her heart.
Drums, do not travel to the village
not now when her grave is still fresh
not now when little moraa’s desperate cry breaks our heart
not now when the night still holds her dying wail
not now when the whole of kisii sings your name
not now.

Three months later
come home, and behold your beautiful daughter
come home and rest her little head on your chest,
come prepared to die at the might of her smile,
come and let her soft hands melt your frozen heart,

come and take your Moraa.

The End.

I would like to thank Drum Beats for provoking me with his writing, He is the kind of poet that has you thinking – Oh hell No, He did not just that- He elicits a spark both rare and sexy. I like that. Drums I could marry you, bring cows and sh** . It was a pleasure working with you.



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