If we stay any longer
paddling in these currents
they christened life
we will go under
sink like the anchor
we are always calling upon.
We will go down to find it there
where hope met reality and birthed despair
and all our steady beseeching
will be nails upon a coffin
and we will be pregnant with the taste of life
and that they will call Destiny
we will be heavy with Destiny’s child
come back twice.
This river will be our Genie’s Lamp,
and when they that are clothed in sky,
douse these banks in Chang’aa
we will drink
be fulfilled again
this time with the depth of despair
in bottomless crack-lipped cups
of a people who went beyond crack
and now fall between the cracks
of jobs not got,
rent not paid,
fees not met,
when not even pity
a crumbling Huruma wall to stay up.
Till Mama Pima heals their eyes
saved the sight of so many
-Gathoni Ireri, ‘Cracks’.