(Wachira, Joel and Kinuthia are campus guys. They have met on a corridor,  when Wachira is decently dressed going for a job interview. Kinuthia is coming from the washrooms after a short call.  Ten meters away, Joel is seen coming )

WACHIRA : Hello, man!

KINUTHIA: Hi, boy!Lookingtoo clean today. Haha. Going on a date

JOEL: Kinuthia,you sound sarcastic though humorous. So, people dress smartly only when having a date? 

KINUTHIA: Ahem!  You…you sound superfluosly silly. Can’t you see he got new brown leather shoes and khaki trousers?

JOEL : Well, your reasons are justified by where you come from. We all know. (Now back to Wachira, while pointing at Kinuthia ). Don’t mind, this lad is mad…don’t take him seriously. 

WACHIRA: Fine, fine…but I’m getting late. 

KINUTHIA: Haha, boy,  better be quick. Your chick already waiting at the rendezvous. 

WACHIRA: When?  Tell me. When will you stop behaving like a bushman? 

KINUTHIA: Me a bushman you call?  You mean it? (Darting towards Wachira threateningly with a grimaced face ). I will drop you dead right here, now. And call your whore, tell her to go home because her basturd boyfriend has been killed by his foolishness. 

WACHIRA: Don’t think I am that good, that tender, that friendly or forgiving. Dare try it and I will stop you in the most ruthless fashion. (Now wagging his index finger furiously a half a centimeter near Kinuthia’s nose). I will repaint this corridor with your dirty blood and use your skin as my door mat. 

KINUTHIA: Haha,  I need to teach you a common course,  psychology of speaking. (clenching his fists and jumping with agility ).

JOEL: Lets not go to that extent. Where is our civilization?  Rotten…stolen?

WACHIRA: Hangs his back pack bag on a nail hummered on the corridor wall. (Rolls his shirt’s sleeves, baring his teach . Kicks Kinuthia on the groin, he falls down, and then Wachira is about to step on his face )

JOEL: Weh!  Stupid! So you’re a lunatic too?  Leave him alone or I call ‘Generals’.

KINUTHIA: Call them. I say call them. Do you hear what I’m telling you? (Wachira recoils ,picks his bag and runs away )

JOEL: Hey! (shouting )Tell us where you are going.

WACHIRA: (shouting back ). I guess,  minding your own affairs is not a difficult thing to do. 

KINUTHIA: Tell us. 

WACHIRA: You have spoiled my day. Can’t talk to anyone of you. (still running until he disappears )

JOEL: Stop being primitive. Too superstitious. 

KINUTHIA: We have a CAT in the afternoon. So…I hope you won’t miss. 

WACHIRA: All the best. (waves at them). Bye idiots! 

KNUTHIA: He calls us idiots?! Lets go for his neck. 

JOEL: (ignores Kinuthia’s statement ) Haha, he has left his documents. 

KINUTHIA: ( counteracts by ignoring) Joel lets go for breakfast. 

JOEL: You mean this is the time you’re waking up (Kinuthia nods).See how lazy Kenyans are yet they keep complaining about to the government. Either for salary hike, or reduction in the price of Unga. 

KINUTHIA: The government is oppressing Kenyans. That you should know. 

JOEL: Are you from the other side? 

KINUTHIA: No, I neither belong to this side or the other side. I’m just Kinuthia, Son of them Hills, a Kenyan. 

JOEL: Ignoromous !

KINUTHIA: Sick sycophant! 

(they go away )

Act 2

(Wachira is in town, waiyaki way. Has been standing beside the highway for 30 minutes waiting the traffic flow to reduce so he can cross the road. Fortunately it does )

POLICE: (in civilian clothes ). Hey, young man! Young man! 

WACHIRA: (pointing at his chest ) Me? 

POLICE:  Yeah! Come quic.

WACHIRA: (comes smiling ) Hello! How are you? 

POLICE: Stupid!  I got no time for greetings. Nonsense. I’m on my job. And if I may… 

WACHIRA: Well…aammm…ask. 

POLICE: Why are you interrupting me as if I’m your equal?  

WACHIRA: (unremoursefully ). Sorry, sir! 

POLICE: Silly!  Why are you crossing the road like a gazelle…like an animal I mean? Eh…? Running…and by the way is there a zebra crossing hapa? 

WACHIRA: Sorry, sir! 

POLICE: Your sorry song has no meaning, now. 

WACHIRA: But I said, I’m sorry. 

POLICE: Sorry! Next time you sing  that sorry song I will distort your face with a slap. 

WACHIRA: I’m not sorry, I will never be sorry again. Ofcourse I am a human being, a man. Wachira! 

POLICE: (Takes out a toygun from his leather jacket pockets ). I am now wasting time. Sleeping on my job. (moves towards Wachira sneakely). Utalala ndani. Offenses: Kuongelesha mbovu,  kuvuka barabara mahali pasipo kuwa na zebra-crossing,  kuwa na red eyes, and long unkempt beards. You will rot in jail. 

WACHIRA: Let me withdraw some cash from that ATM. (runs and shouts ). Then I come we talk! (he takes a different direction )

POLICE: Come back young man. (shouts to no one in particular ). Everybody down. I want to blow off his head. 

WACHIRA: (shouts back ) Thief!  He’s a thief. (Looks back, and sees the ‘gun’ aimed at his head. He then swerves  dribbling past the cars, still looking back. Then stumbles against a stationary Tuk -Tuk. His bag falls off from his shoulders ) . Woooi, mùtiùke. 

POLICE: You can run, but you cannot go far. Government has long hands. (he runs towards Wachira, who now pretends that he has fainted . But runs he runs away after seeing real cops)

WACHIRA: (wakes up,and flees after hearing cops being mentioned. While nose bleeding).Sure? ((talking to himself )I’d rather get ran over by a truck than land in coops hands.Those savages.

COP: Hey, Man. Hey. Come we take you to the hospital.

WACHIRA: Beasts!

(Goes to a city municipal toilet, washes his face and wipes of dust from his clothes. And then realized he had lost his academic credentials required in an interview he was going to attend. He decides to go back to campus )

JOEL: Hey, Wachira. Glad that you are back.

WACHIRA: Glad too.

KINUTHIA: But you look gloomy…

JOEL: It is because he forgot his documents here.

WACHIRA: My unhappiness has nothing to do with that. Totally different.

KINUTHIA: I knew, and was about to tell you but you pretended to know so much. Anyway, caught your girl with a sponsor??

JOEL: You people are funny. But…

WACHIRA: As said in beggining my source of unhappiness is something quite different from what you think or may guess.

JOEL: Tell us, broo.

WACHIRA: (tears beginning to form in his red bulb-like eyes ). In midmorning when I was on my way to attend a job interview, I met a thug and he was about to corner. But I was too smart for him. I escaped, but unfortunately knocked my right knee against a Tuk Tuk. Started bleeding. Onlookers came in thousands. I faked unconciousness….

JOEL: Then…?

WACHIRA: I heard people talking about soldiers who were coming. I panicked, almost to real death but managed to run away.

KINUTHIA: (giggling) Running from a motorcycle, bumping into a train!

JOEL: How did you meet the thug?

WACHIRA: After I crossed the road ,he came running pretending to be a traffic police accussing me of violating traffic rules. There was no zebra crossing.

KINUTHIA: My friend, in Kenya those minor offenses are like criminal offenses. It is the other way round.

JOEL: Better that. You ran away. The cops would have criminalized your agony and plight – being conned and the accident. Haha, forgive me for being cynical.

KINUTHIA: Nope! No offense. You said the truth. No need to apologise. In this country, you better grab public land, steal billions from state funds than steal a chicken, gossip or shake hands with a member from your rival tribe.

(They all laugh loudly )


Jomo Kenyatta 

Papa! Papa! Papa! 

How I wish you could relive…

and see what Kenya has become…

a country you fought for fearlessly , 

risked your life and slept in caves to liberate it,

 a country you once revered so much,

 and would bet with your right kidney

 or stake with your heart to express your unwaivering patriotism, 

a country that was once full of peace, honesty, justice, food, love ,trees and rain,

 a country which was once devoted to its people’s colourful culture,

 a country whose heart once throbbed with patriotic songs, loyalty pledges to the land, lord and Lord, 

a country whose glamour and glory shone beyond the hills, 

 a country whose love for the young people and children was once magnificent and motherly, 

a country whose heroes and heroines sacrificed their sweet of blood to purchase its freedom…

a country which is now on its dead bed…

about to  pass on any minute, hour or day,

 about to scream and hurl curses on anybody who pinned it down, 

entangled it,  sucked it dry and red-eyedly raped it.

Papa, we miss you. 

We miss your fly whisk. 

We miss your ‘harambee’ chants. 

We miss your MILK(Maziwa ya Nyayo ), coz mama has been milked dry. 

Papa! Papa!  Papa!


Escorted by a long stretch of motorcade 

Comprising of all types types of cars

Moons, meteorites, comets and stars

All cruising the sky highway silently…

Night comes confidently

Elegantly clad in a pitch black suit 

Undisturbed and unconcerned 

Braving the cold and darkness :

Fireflies and wolves

Skunks and owls

Ghosts and vampires 

For twelve good hours!

Crying Heart 

Ouch! Wow!  Ouch! 

Love came smiling 
So sweet that I was moved

The smile got me thinking 

About how I can be loved 

Thinking, day n’ night not blinking 

Sufferings and sorrow got revived 

These tribulations got me slimming 

I hardly could have survived,

In the midst of this season 

She mysteriously stole my heart 

So violent and left my chest bleeding 

And left without a good reason 

I was horribly hurt

My heart left bitter crying 

Death process about to start 

Red hot tears of blood oozing! 

I almost stopped breathing 

My chest so open, like a cart

Lungs injured, about to stop living 

I have to tell this truth so smart –

She’s my end and my begging,

About it she is more alert… 

I was lifeless, decaying 

Stinking, smelling like fart

But my heart still cried and cried. 
© Joel K. Wachira -2017


She was frustrated,

And felt utterly useless 

But he wasn’t disappointed,

Just swum in happiness 

The sky was orange red

Partially cloudless 

The sun was very tired and exhausted,

Moon exchanging blows with darkness

Stars were scarcely spread, 

Winds blew past thin clouds , and  sped, 

Faking commitment and seriousness 

Boys drove cows to their shed

Flogging them in bitterness 

As very young and old went to bed,

Feeling wasted and hopeless 

Those of her age, nobody to be trusted-

She is the only one flawless…

There she was, alone, teeth clenched 

Feeling betrayed and in duress. 

She thought about him again 

And thought about herself, 

Her heart numbed in pain, 

She thought about her life, and love itself, 

And reserved her complain, 

Then fell into despair, and tears 

Beat her breasts in quick successions

To frighten her loneliness and fears

Confusion and emotional convulsions 

Discrimination from her peers,

And severe situations 

She wailed and sobbed 

Feeling extremely empty and robbed, 

Wishing to fly after the birds to their nests

Forget about her self-interests

And the harshness of these tests!