Wednesday, March 1, 2017




As Africa re-defines its story to newly live

The sun will rise from beneath the sky
To caress Africa from its past cries

The rainbow will protect us from above
As Africa shines for the world to witness
With colors of emotions flowing in harmony

The Giraffe will stand on its height
With big long neck over any wall
As Africa stands tall
When all others fall

The Lion will stand firm on its feet
Allocate, relocate any where it can fit
With a soft heart that cannot hurt
As Africa binds together at heart
Beyond where any dirt can touch

Then will come this life we used to read in books
Timed smokeless cookers – no need of cooks
Posh cars, once for only stars will be our cars to vroom
Real schools, with cool stools will be our schools for our children to school.
As Africa shines and reigns without looking back
To the footprints of our tracks that left us with scars


By our grandfathers
Whose bones are now old
The story was told
That the Africa that awaited
Was not the one born
But something to be created
Remolded and re-patterned
With a glass to be wrapped
And in the air to be placed.
That, its shear
On its downfall
Would be blamed on itself
Cracking its own shelf
As it staggers in blinding darkness
Of extreme shyness
And acted weakness

The dangers that were foretold
In the story that was told
By our grandfathers that were bullied
Are here now with us today
On our shoulders to hold

The story was told
That diseases will torment the land
To be manufactured in the lab
Injected in Africa at large

The story was told
That poverty will torture the land
Designed with hard words to understand
Inflation is in Africa at large

The story was told
That mankind will not spare Africa’s kindness
The affectionate and tender Africa
Will be a malevolent Africa
That the storms will rise
Over Africa to traumatize
Darkness will cover the land
And crops wither in the sand
Heroes will surmise
As they try to rise.

The story was told
That our leaders will be the destroyer’s slaves
And rule their fellows with blows
The destroyer will keep us at watch
With his metallic birds in the airbase
Watching us burn in the firebase
Enclosed in a metal case
That whoever cannot endure
Opts for an everlasting rest
As the story was foretold.


Bout - Combat
With absence of fury
But with presence of passion
Between two traditional men
Fighting with caution
Within environs of fire
And clansmen that cheer

Grandpa - Grandson
Sitting around a striking glow
Monitoring children as they grow
With the folk tales,
Obscenities that are smoothly pronounced
Tarradiddles and all the riddles
Armoring the future
Against evils of the future

Peaceful moonlight
Eight O'clock at night
Comes this social event
Each age group sitting in a circle
Attacking the meal from every angle
There is a unique sitting style
That no one can defile
And only the right hand
To transport the load.


Why do you want to make me cry?
When I look back in your childhood
And compare the naivety
Of your then ignorance
With the guilt
Of your today’s adolescence
Your mother you make cry
You know for you she tries
And the unreliable crop she grows
Even though sometimes school fees delays
But all this you cannot imagine
And your torn future you combine

Do you have a vision child?
I mean a desired perception
An aspiration to ween
A lawyer, speaks good English
An engineer must know Physics
A teacher likes school
And doctorship is not in you
But all this you cannot imagine
And your torn future you combine

Why do you plant thorns in your life?
With sharp spines through your flesh
The sun is about to set
And hope is fading away with no trace
But all this, still you cannot imagine
And your torn future you combine.


We no cry for bread
Nor these poor roads
We cry for the tilt in their dreams
When they were still useful in their youthfulness
Their descendants were pastoralists
A profession they rejected and opted for patriotism
And now why drop the initial dream?
To cover it with this cream
Patripassians is now what they are
Monarchianism is what has covered what they were
They are now ravenous as leopards
Enrich day by day with smart pads
Yet pitiable school girls do not have sanitary pads
They sow seeds of confusion
To rule us with division
Service delivery is not lively
When it is, is like the biological diffusion
They are the regions of high concentration
We are the regions of low concentration..


BEINOMUGISHA FREDRICK, is a critical and radical poet, aged 22 years, from Western Uganda in the district of Rubirizi, Bunyaruguru. A student in his 2nd year at KAMPALA INTERNATIONAL UNIVERSITY-WC pursuing a bachelor's degree in Information Technology.

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