By Professor Ngugi w***irii
Tornadoes hover in the chaste of chastity,
Morality rumbles in the pipelines of hope,
And poetry survives the mercenaries' sword.
Upon this craft,
We stand like victors,
Conquering the lands of intellectual dwarfism,
And ransacking the walls of oppression,
To free the mind,
And liberate an African conscience.
Upon these soapstones,
We write not of the tears we shed,
But the love we lost,
To the wiles of evil.
We stand on lofty vintage points,
And observe the imprisonment of souls,
And the enshckling of minds,
The washing away of peace,
And the decimation of hope.
We shudder as we are also tied,
Under the gnawing clutches of censorship,
And the yoke of silence we bore,
And we are as good as the oppressor,
For in our silence,
Evil thrives.
©ngugi
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