L'Afrique que se réveiller à QUOTIDIEN

Parfois je me sens un pincement dans le cou chaque matin quand le soleil se lève . de ma fenêtre, je ne peux même pas voir se lever , mais quand je vois les crevasses du soleil a frappé ma fenêtre Je sais que c'est le matin . un autre jour en Afrique ...... un autre jour sur la pauvreté .... un autre jour de l'analphabétisme .... un autre matin de l'ignorance .... et un autre matin de corruption. en Afrique, il est ce qui nous fait de l'Afrique .

craignent parfois poignées ma peau. Je crains qu'un jour je vais me réveiller et de trouver une armée d'hommes blancs ...... éparpillés partout sur les murs de ma maison ... comme l'assignation à résidence que je veux dire . prendre au sens littéral . son fou je vous dis. Afrique se trouve au bord d'une montagne escarpée où il ya seulement le ciel au-dessus et dans les eaux ci-dessous. la terre derrière l'Afrique n'a pas de sens .... c'est juste pas africain.

Vous voyez que je ne sais même sens désolé pour moi-même. ni ne Je suis désolé pour mon propre nation. Je suis en train de vivre selon les jours. dans mon pays, qu'ils disent .... " kenya ina wenyewe " ... traduction pour "Le Kenya est détenu par certaines personnes " . Maintenant, quand vous vivez sur terre quelqu'un ne vous attendez vraiment un traitement équitable. peut-être que dans vos rêves.

je ressens pour les nombreuses familles qui vivent au jour le jour ... en espérant que la mort réduire leur nombre afin qu'ils puissent avoir plus . et même si aucun d'entre eux ne sait qui devrait aller si le reste peut manger . Qu'en est-il des nombreux hommes engloutis dans l'abus de drogues , le vol, criminalités ? ? Parfois je me demande si les circonstances ou juste un groupe de jeunes qui n'ont pas la vie , mais nous vivons .


J'aurais juré que ma vie en Afrique .... mais là encore la corruption est de trop. Je vous jure ma vie à moi-même ... même pas mon peuple. il peut ne pas fonctionner . Ma vie est à moi .... L'Afrique a sa propre vie ... vous êtes soit vivez pour l'Afrique ou pour vous-même . lorsque vous quittez définitivement , l'Afrique Burry vous si vous avez bon ou mauvais ... c'est le monde réel nous vivons dans

c'est l' Afrique, je dors à chaque nuit et se réveiller chaque matin .....

SPITEFUL SOUL...... A tale of women for women and by a woman to be understood by men and women alike.

“ good women are rare like gold, their hearts beautiful like diamond and their strength as hard as steel…but when provoked they move like the whirl wind……and their breathe tastes like fire and they burn and destroy slowly till their enemy is like ashes…… then they blow them away”

Life is like the Halloween with too many people doing what they always wanted to do in covered faces. A lot others doing what they hope to do in the near future. The rest are just enjoying what it feels to be someone else for those few hours. Then with time everyone goes back to what they have always been. Halloween is the best way to describe fear. When small boys choose to be batman or little girls choose to be Cinderella, they always hope that someone would be the enemy. Batman hopes he can have a few people dressed up like complete horror so that he can carry the day that he prevented them from spoiling the Halloween party. Cinderella on the other hand lives with the hope that the prince, her evil sisters and their mother would be at the party to see how the prince finds out the shoe is hers and then get the chance to dance with the prince throughout the party.

“Where is the laptop?” he shouted

“Please don’t do anything to her,” he begged…..i curled up in my bed listening to every word and every cry of my own father. I kept praying that nothing happens to him. I had never prayed that heartily for my own father. This night I felt how he needed me. I felt how I could do nothing to help him. Then I heard the door to my room pushed and opened….they whispered and threw things left and right. They shone the torch so bright at me I almost gave in.

“Young girl wake up”…..i stretched from my bed as if I had been sleeping. “Where is the phone?”

“Hmmmm” I pretended as if I had not heard anything

“The phone, bring it…where is it….” This time he was clear

I shoved my hand below the pillows and got out my phone. My whole life was frozen. My tear glands totally dry and my tongue so tied like it were glued with gelatin. “…….and where is the money?” that question rang in my ears like torrents of water. I began to throw clothes around and about searching for what I wasn’t even sure about its where about. The guy kept threatening to kill me if I didn’t give him money. I couldn’t even cry I just kept looking for anything that looked like my bag. I cannot remember for how long I looked for the bag but I remember being shoved against the wall and being told to remain mum.

“Take off your clothes……..” I wasn’t sure I had heard what he had just asked me to do so I paused for a few moments. Then he said it louder, ‘’stop playing your little pranks with me and get those trouser down or I will do it myself!’’

 I was not sure what was at stake. Was it my life because he kept pushing the long sharp spear like weapon towards my private part? Or was it my health because I feared for the events that would transpire between me and him that morning. I could feel my heart beating so fast. I wasn’t even sure if it was my father’s life that I was willing to save at this particular point. I slowly pulled the pants down while moving towards the wall in uttermost fear. He grabbed me by the leg and pulled me closer. Then he flew the legs apart and shone the torch between my legs. It felt cold. It felt like a dead end. He slowly passed his fingers up and down, opening the vagina from time to time and smacking his hands with saliva and passing his fingers over again. My brain was empty, my heart was doing over a million beats in one second and blood in my veins froze, paving way for the sweat glands to open up and trickle down my face and my armpits. The temperatures in the room were too high for me to contain.

 Then he placed his fingers and rolled them inside me. I have never been so taken a back in my life. I squeezed my legs together. He picked the sharp weapon and charged it at me. I obliged and opened my legs wide.

“Have you ever been fucked?” he asked. This came like a boomerang. At that moment I didn’t know how the answer to that question would affect the events that would follow. I didn’t even know the answer to that question. Before I could formulate a clear strategy that would cover up for the other question, he went ahead, “are you married?”

‘’yes,’’ I responded without thinking. I only hoped it covered up for the previous question

‘’where is your husband?’’ he continued

‘’in the village,’’ I swear I almost laughed at this one response. Which husband of mine was in the village and when did I get married?

The never ending questions increased the time for torturing and I was beginning to feel worked up. The next question was both a question of relief and grief.

 “Do you have any sickness?

i stared at my dressing table and saw the last pills of medicine that I had taken probably months back and I responded that I was undergoing medication for I was diagnosed with syphilis a few years ago. 

‘’get off that bed…we are going to your fathers room. You will pass that sickness to him’’ I remained mute and selfless. He grabbed me by the arm and shoved me into my father’s bed…..naked! I have never been so traumatized. I felt like I could see father in the dark. He seemed to be disappointed at himself for not being able to rescue me from the entire trauma. They had pushed him at one corner of the bed and covered him with a blanket and asked him to remain silent. The turn that the event was taking was too much for my nerves.

‘’mzee take off your pants!’’ 

Before father could do anything, he pulled fathers trousers and asked him to lie with me. I wished for the ground to open up and take the whole of me. Wasn’t there even an inch of humanity in this people? Was it not enough that they had taken the little possessions that we had? Were they not feeling anything for the powerless creature that I was before them? They blamed my father for being learned because of a graduation photo they had seen. Wasn’t the government now giving free education? Were the neighbors not hearing anything that was going on? I could not explain the string of questions that jammed my already heat soaked brain. Father pleaded with them till they obliged. They called him names in my ears…..spited him in my eyes and made fun of him in his own house. All this time I wasn’t talking. I watched with dry tear glands as my father went on his knees and pleaded that they take all they can and just spare us the agony. He asked them to spare us the shame that would be a burden for life. While he talked he covered me with a blanket and whispered to me, “All would be well”. Then there was a loud bang! It sounded something a gunshot and you could feel it in your ears. I don’t remember what happened I could only see father laying on the ground writhing with pain. Then I saw how blood spurted out of his left side like a leaking pot….in my hands I watched as he struggled to keep his breathe. 

“Father don’t go! Don’t go…”tears gagged my speech. He was not responding. “Father!” I shook him harder….then even harder…then consistently….then I saw how he slowly rested in my arms.

“Faaaaatttthhheeeeeeerrrrrr!”

“Adina!” I woke up with a start to a crowd and in Christa’s arms. Tears filled my face and I realized I was tightly holding my father’s picture frame. I couldn’t say a word. Christa managed to send them away till it was only us in the office. She hurriedly gave me some water to drink and helped me to the chair by the coffee table.

“How long did it go?” I manage to ask

“Are you serious? You startled the whole building then you wake up and ask me how long it went? Huh without even telling me what’s wrong with you in the first place?” Christa responds rather shocked at my strange behaviors. This isn’t the first time she has come in handy to help me up from my deep nightmares. I wonder what will become of me when I am alone in a supermarket or in the church or driving along the streets. I don’t even want to think the whole world would stop to stare at me including the people who murdered my father in cold blood. Well, I don’t even want to think of what will happen. I have never really figured out what was worse, getting raped by these men or losing my father? Either way someone was going to pay for both. They say revenge is the best medicine. Well I say a stitch in time saves nine. I don’t care who is holding the needle and stitching who or what but I hope when the nine are saved then I should be one of them. As for Christa, this is not the right time to worry her about what is really happening with me. Am hoping she can figure that out by herself soon. Halloween just started in my country and am going be many characters at once........ to be continued

ONE MAN FOR A WOMAN LIKE ME

if you are the reason
i wake up every morning
and smile at my life
then please stay with me

if you are the reason
that i sleep every night
with dreams of you
then please be with me

if you are the reason
i want to be a good woman
and make you proud always
then please dont give up yet

if you are the reason
i want to be a mother
and take care of my kids
then please father our own

if you are the reason
i want to work hard everyday
and make us happy always
then please walk this life with me

and if you are the reason
i bow down to pray
and i learn Gods true worship
then please marry me

for love is about
those sacrifices we make
because we care about someone
and all we want is to be happy.

I AM STILL THAT WOMAN

I dont mean to brag
but i have been close enough
to know who you are
i have been there every night
watching you fall asleep
i have known what it means
to be loved by you

it was a beautiful experience
its in my heart......





 I am still that woman
you want to walk down the aisle
still that woman
you want to spend your life with
better still
the mother to your children










 i feel honoured......




 I am stiil that woman
who keeps reminding you
that she loves you deeply
am still that woman
who can stand you
in all of your seasons
i am that woman who knows you
and still sticks by

 and you know what that means....





I am still that woman
who smiles even at her worst
still that woman
who says all will be fine soon
i am still that woman
that keeps your mind busy
better still the one in your dreams

 i am still that woman....





I will remind you each day
that love has no speed limits
it knows no time bound
and when it is true
it barely fades down
it gets stronger with every
challenge










i am still that woman.....

NO HOPE IN TOWN

by Desma Winnie Wood on Thursday, February 2, 2012 at 6:04pm ·

This street was my everyday way
it kept me conscious of my day
that everyday something happens
to ignite a fallen spirit in me
was it the little child crying?










 Or the teenage mother trying?
I couldnt tell where my heart lay
but i knew that in both of them
there was no hope

this restaurant,my everyday eatery
it kept my teeth busy when jittery
that evryday we should strive to share
even if its the last of what we have
was it the shrugged boy with atin?








 Or the old dirty man in the bin?
I couldnt tell who needed me more
all i could understand is that
they had no hope

this house where i lived all seasons
autumn,summer,winter,spring for a reason
but my mind wasnt at peace at all
because i wasnt calm at all
was it the shanties i saw everyday home?







Or the homeless people so alone?
I couldnt tell who suffered more
but it was all in their eyes
there was no hope

in this town i lived all my life
many think it gives solutions to all strife
but i would beg to differ
i dont know what brings multitudes to town
is it the tall buildings,clean streets,parks?






Or the unexisted jobs,or just aname?
I dont know,maybe poverty is a new lifestyle
attracts less but finds many
because in town...
There is no hope

I'LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU WHITNEY

by Desma Winnie Wood on Sunday, February 12, 2012 at 8:47am ·

Life wasnt that short
until i heard
that you are no more
i thought death was for
for a selected people
until your soul was no more
you had to leave
before i got to share
one platform with
the queen of soul nd classicals




i wont despair
i will take it as a challenge
to live up to my dreams
and achieve my goals
so that when am gone
someone will write about me
like i wrote about you
in my heart.....

I got a special place for you
never took time
to judge the alcoholic you
neither did i want to know
how drugs destroyed you
i felt something different
about the real you




your music did inspire me
it always healed my soul
because it was torn
torn to pieces
by the fathomless abyss
that is called life

 i was my own life
just like you were your own
not pulled down
by the weights of the world
but stronger to handle
even the heaviest storms
or the largest tides....
God knows why you had to go






i feel obliged
to restore a part of music
that will be missed
for a long time to come
but you will be
my guardian angel
so this music can live on
we loved you whitney
and we will always do
may your soul rest
in eternal peace

PROSTITUTE PLAY·

The phone rings Friday morning
'you got any plans today?'
'no just hanging in my crib.'








'hows the week been like?'
'stressful..you know whats up'
'talk to me swiry'

 'i just need some good loving'
'you know i can fix that'
'thanks love you the best.'

its Friday evening
she dresses to kill
ready to go to her duty





she isn't really a park gal
but shes ready and there for you
she doesn't like it yet she does it














he fails to notice the signs
he might loose it real soon
she gracefully finds her way

'looking good tonight babe'
'looking awesome as always'
the prostitute play is fun
we realize it much later











 when we become addicted
and you cant let go because
you have fallen in love
in the name of friendship
and being there for each other






hes a man you a woman
and there is no such thing as
prostitute play!

Am not a clande...NO!

Vipi kaka shikamoo
mbona hunielewi
acha nikuelezee
wenye magari nishawaona

wenye nyumba za kifahari pia
hayo mapeni nina zaidi
huu mchezo wataka kuanza
tayari nishahitimu phd
sasa sijui itakuaje
nani mwalimu nani mwanafunzi











can i get your number
please boy your number
can i get your number

cos am not a clande...NO
am not a clande....NO

am just a beautiful girl
who is in love with you




nitizame kwa mara ya pili
moyo ushapenda
si kama nahitaji mapeni yako
ajuaye haya ni Mungu
nimeona zaidi ya hapa
ndiyo maana nakupenda
mbona usinipe nafasi
nikuonyeshe haya mambo

waugua lakini hutokubali
moyo wako ushavunjwa
na wale wasokupenda
naja kwako moyo mkunjufu
mapenzi nimebeba kwenye moyo
machozi yanitoka
mbona usiniskize






can i get your number
please boy your number
can i get your number









cos am not a clande NO
not a clande....NO
am just a beautiful girl
whos in love with you

MAMA SEE MY TEARS...

I never wanted to do this
i never planned for this
but it kept following me
looking for me all over
in the gutters in the streets
in the calmness of my house
in the busiest of streets
mama i tried to stop it
but it couldnt go away
it was stronger than me

look at me now
in a sullen mood
trying to find the real me
in the comfort of tears
trying to shed away the past
its never gonna go mama
however hard i try
i just feel i am alone
with no hopes











the days were good
it always lasted till morning
i dont remember getting tired
i had so much willingness in me
but the lies mama, the lies
i wasnt able to see then






my eyes were closed
i was too happy, too happy
until the glass droped
as i was dancing to nice tunes
i could never replace it
but everyday i wanna move on
see my tears mama

its all gone
but it keeps coming
every day...every night
and mama you know
what i feel in me
blood, hatred, revenge
i cant do any of those
so i curl in my bed
and all i do is cry
i let the anger go






mama i wanna move on
its really hard for me
i always want you by me
let me say a prayer
it could heal me for a day
or a second one