Part two
Waceke Kiratu
We washed the streets as we anticipated your arrival.
We were your disciples.
We followed your every move.
We filled the streets with chants.
We got rained on as we waved at your convoy.
We dined at Mama Nitilie with you.
We welcomed you at our homes.
We bought your sobbing story.
We went hard on your oppressors.
We abused the "elites" when they gave you a babysit at conferences.
We jubilated on the streets when you ascended the throne.
You were our angel,
Our chosen one.
We are now sobbing on the same streets
That were once colourful,
The air full of smoke,
With blood on the pavements,
Chanting sobbing songs like Pharaoh's kids,
Kneeling in the rain like some RnB artists,
Crying of heartbreak.
The betrayal has choked us;
You have drained our souls away.
Ever since you sat on the throne,
Unatufinya everywhere.
Your narrative is different,
Making us taste your last heartbreak.
We did not look down on you;
You are a sanctimonious man.
We are on these streets
With dejected hearts,
Crying for you to have mercy.
Pharaoh, tuwache twende sasa.
The plague is unbearable.
We want to touch the hem of your suit
To collect that which we had desired.
But your status has changed;
You are now the Dynasty,
Commanding every ruler with your fingertips.
We are your little wankers, criminals,
Crying at your feet.
