Bleeding Corpses

From the stories doing the rounds on Kenyan media it appears that some people did not just read criminal novels and view bank robber movies, they actually took notes.

The degree and levels of intricate planning suggested depicts skewed minds that work round the clock scheming and following the manual on 'How to efficiently rob a nation' , ripping through the very souls of Kenyans as they steal as much as they can.

On the backdrop of all this are the voices of our noisy politicians echoing the need for 'their' people to register as voters so that they can oust the status quo or sustain it depending on who's talking. The reasoning is, that to get or retain power assures us of lesser thievery but as is, it's a bigger slice of the stolen cake.

Every five years we are treated to the loud blare of the same song deafening our ears of how we need to take the power in our hands by registering as voters then come election day we line up under the scorching sun to elect persons who would consume us slowly like warm peanuts.

After celebrating our man or mourning the stolen votes we start another five year stretch of theatrics as the schemers get to work siphoning what would have been our young people's dreams and making sure that yet another Kenyan toddler never lives to see their first birthday.

We are blinded to the fact that we are like a hotdog being chewed from both ends and yet being squeezed from the top and the bottom and in time we'll be no more but a blob of poop swimming down a sewer.

We are in deep slumber inside our cocoons lamenting of how vile politics has become, and because we've had it hard we wish the same for others, even our very own kin and we quickly pull down persons that appear to have any vision for this country, munching up their dreams and stamping on their very existence.

We'd rather shield 'our own' wishing all the while we'll transform into a beautiful butterfly from the ugly caterpillar that we are, forgetting that the rot is within us and we can only heal if we rid of that rot or by an act of God.

Maybe that's exactly what we need, an act of God for we have become complacent and patriotic to the very people that oppress us and we sing of the great pumpkins in the land of oppression that we'd rather eat than the grapes awaiting us in the promised land.

We enjoy the lashing and the name calling that is paraded on pedestals of power as they jostle for our attention and we have been reduced to the rubber stamp that is the final assent to our own crucifixion.

We need an act of God, one such that no one will have the nerve to take claim but one such that will turn the tide so that the oppressed will be liberated and the scoffers eliminated.

Who are my brothers and sisters? Only those who do the will of my Father whom I thank for the hope and also for faith, for in my little self I may not do much but by His power I can say to this mountain move and it moves.

And so, this mountain of corruption I declare death unto your roots, I declare that no more shall we bear your burdens. I declare that you are defeated in Jesus name and may all that eat at your bosom be astounded and shriveled.

May they be deprived of their wine and their oil. May they know pain as they have caused pain.

Lord turn around our condition and let us again sing of your wondrous works. Amen.