Along the stretch of what was etched as the Kamakowa-Asango Rd,
Lie dozen aches from broken sewer lines and burst water pipes.
Muffled alongside mowed murram, lie shells of a people’s forsaken hopes
Millions of shillings in taxpayer’s toil scorched at the stake,
A sacrifice to the scarce – none representative of residents of Kamakowa,
With unhinged greed, they mooch for their next loot like senseless feeder roads
Yet the Common Mwananchi longs for connection – any form of social comfort,
United in their petition for roads that serve and flood lights that do not fade,
They have grown weary of the boogie man underneath smothered street lights
Like forgotten farmhands, the people are stranded in dark routes to nowhere,
For an over-represented lot, they’re marooned on a boat in an endless sea of lost promises
Their only hope is to reclaim their power, and retrace the light at the end of the tunnel
