I live in those dreams,

dreams that shade me against the wrath,

wrath of the bright evil,

those that make my smile contagious at all times,

knowing am a lucky life,

am a human in stone,

am Jabali,

I have managed to make friends everyday of my life,

all of who i have no idea of their backgrounds,

does that make me less patriotic?

does it reduce my blood cells count?

do my brain cells die lacking that information?

our friendship and what it comes with is what matters,

when i left the children’s center,

life was burning ice,

everything was so different. divisions, classification, races,

how hard was it to go through a day with no tribalism effect?

without my second name being in question?

i cry for my brothers and sisters,

those who will pay the tribal price,

the price netted in blood, education and their future at homes,

we are tribe-less,

picked from streets, dump-sites. riversides and doorsteps,

victims of things we have no idea on,

paying bills we can’t account for,

i cry for my nation,

which i don’t belong,

if my surname was a Ruto. Moseti, Mutuma, Olemanyang’, Mwangi, Warfa,

would it make more Kenyan blood flow through me?

would it make me live longer?

why do we try to slave each other/

yet 50 years ago people died for our freedom,

freedom i can’t feel,

for how long will i be a victim of stereo types?

a victim of naivety?

set me free,

set me and my family all over free,

keep calm and let’s be tribeall!



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