Well, in the words of Aubrey Drake Graham, “…Homesick jus when I thought I was sick of home…”,
Lies the impetus for this particular poem.
I must admit that I frankly did not expect to miss my country,what with all its problems,
But being deprived of the people who made all the evil seem feeble sinks me into a state so solemn,
And I wade in the murky waters of missment, each homebound thought feeling like the ultimate torment,
The sweetest 7-second-prize, yet in my eyes, the most vituperative taunt!
The great Marshall Mathers III once said, “I am whatever you say I am…”,
Well, if you choose to see this as an emotional outburst and I a soft gentleman,
then I shall unite with my favourite phenom and echo his call as I would an African chant,
I simply seek to express all that makes me depressed within for I can no longer suppress it, I remain just a man,
And life stands the ever-victorious phenomenon…
I think about the air I breathe back home,
And I can’t compare it to that which I force down my throat in this country in which I now roam,
The men AND women are sadly resigned to mimicking chimneys, cigarette smoke their favourite cologne,
I miss keeping left,
Despite the possession of Kenyan drivers by a maddening spirit, I daresay no one is perfect…
At least there I can feel certain that a female driver will stop to stare at my frame heaven-cleft*,
And in that instant I shall confidently cross the road with a wide smile on my face etched…
I miss MOST the ladies so elegant,
Despite the presence of a substantially higher number of the complete opposite, for which I have no penchant,
Those who ARE as first mentioned are distinctly multivariant
EVEN SO, the one thing they do share is the most important detail, the unadulterated African figure,
A blessing that I, ONCE UPON A TIME, took for granted for I lacked insight…
But that I now cannot help but adore and cherish for I am no longer blindfolded, I see the light,
I’m coming home and treating everything I own, or have a chance to hold, as lovingly as an enlightened man would,
For I have found in my yearning to return, the wood,
to make my fire brighter burn, just as it always should.
Yours dear Kenya, in perpetuity,
Evans Mbora Muthee Campbell.