My mind sits helplessly in your cauldron, on and on goes the boiling water’s gurgle,
Once upon a time, even before I could rhyme, you were the one around whom we would huddle,
You were our protector, a dependable,
But now, we seem to have become deliverables,
You threaten with all intent to make us reimburse you for resources spent, we lost the gamble?
You let another come between us, tear our world in two, unstable,
Not out of our own malice, but your paranoid conviction that we seek your downfall,
All day we walk on eggshells around you, like winnings at the roulette table, you’re dangerously unpredictable,
You have become a self-sworn enemy, constantly being curt, threatening to make life unbearable.
I used to look up to you man,
The one with the plan; always eager to lend a helping hand,
But now you want my black to tan in an instant,
Think that all these changes you are keen on seeing adapted to are easy to understand,
More detrimentally- that they are reason enough to instantaneously act and not react,
Expect we could see each one coming and determine our position, like a sailor with a sextant,
And with all those demands, your glare burns through the back of our heads, fully expectant,
We are young men, well-educated and highly-skilled magicians,
I don’t believe we ever quarrelled much before she walked in and declared herself Raising Assistant,
But I do believe that our future is plagued with a cancer far too malignant.
“Pesa, pombe, siasa na wanawake…zitafanya wanaume wauane”, goes a song I never seem able to forget from my past,
How I never thought I’d get to experience, with you, any of that,
Countless are the number of spats,
Barely any of my responses matter as you make your part in a discussion a rant,
And later impose your authority on all things moral with a rubber stamp,
Authority I believe you lost from the day I realised a hero you weren’t,
I should never really have been so exalting and ignorant of the fact,
That in the end you too are only human.
Son, friend, confidant,
Things now meaning hardly much,
It is my hope that someday your eyes shall be opened to those that will, with you, always stand,
Before you push them off the edge and leave no room to cliffhang.
Yours in perpetuity?
Evans Mbora Campbell.