I AM A WITNESS
“The Lost Fight”
Like waking up in a mortuary,
22nd March of 2020 was scary.
11pm in the dead of the night
I remember it with total fright.
The first case was announced.
Our nation was dead silenced
At the horror of terrifying news.
The wise & their opposite gave views
About the virus; an unknown visitor.
And a ruthless life harvester.
Generations got glued onto screens
Not to miss preventive guidelines.
Our hearts raced abnormally
As new cases increased daily.
We got total thanatophobia
As we saw death afar and near.
Many spared a coin to buy sanitizer
For it was the only virus seizer.
In 2020, I saw our hands take alcohol.
Yes, it truly happened; I still recall.
Folks were so disciplined
Even when we were quarantined.
I remember Dr. Jane Ruth Aceng
Always smartly dressed in kitengi
Shortly took control of the situation.
And she won fame from the nation.
The boom! an influx of truck drivers
Through the various porous borders
Entered and infected us in every town
Yet they said it was a total lockdown.
Like marriage with an impotent
Citizens felt fooled and disappointed.
Our efforts were washed down the drain
For drivers kept entering without restrain.
And the good fight lost meaning
Like injecting a body after dying.
Then, new cases no longer moved us
Not b’se we had discovered an antivirus
But b’se the gov’t wasn’t real serious.
So, it’s only God who saved us.
Copyright © Nkono Yeeko
The Lark Poet
+256774235929
I AM A WITNESS
“Suffering Of The Poor”
I was there
Hunger was everywhere
Yet food was nowhere.
Joy became so rare
Like justice in the jaws of a bear
I witnessed poor parents despair
For their cooking pots were bare.
Their pain was too much to bear.
Sadly, two ministers refused to share
Except with Kigali; just somewhere
Voters fed on their own tears
As the voted enjoyed cold beers.
Leaders failed to clearly steer,
Instead, they turned insincere.
Donations were presented here
Read by the top dog as we cheer.
Magically, good ones could disappear.
But, even in a situation such severe,
The poor man had no one to interfere.
In 2020, it all happened that year.
I saw it all and I confess.
The pandemic was their business.
Despite the tax payer’s abjectness,
They looted in broad day darkness.
Amidst the stress of joblessness,
NSSF was impossible to access.
As our MPs of great prowess,
Suddenly, turned voiceless
For their mouths were full to excess
I saw the “for God & my stomach” illness.
Women delivered along the roads
As RDCs had become small gods.
You either oil their fingers,
Or don’t hit the road to the doctors.
I saw young LDUs spank the old
Who were fending for their household.
Like a kite high in the sky
I saw it all with my keen eye.
And my rabbit ears heard it all.
Now, I am a witness for I recall it all
I AM A WITNESS
“Torture By Men In Uniform”
Tick-tock boom! It’s 7:00pm.
The hour civilians hated to come.
For police it was a fun hour.
A time to show their abnormal power.
In the name of curfew,
They made folks cry to no rescue.
Mothers separated from little children
As they wept before uniformed men.
Yes, I saw it all and others did too.
Uniformed men did all they wanted to do.
LDU recruits with sticks and guns
Battered helpless civilians in turns.
Like hyenas, they appeared at dust,
Their awaited hour to harm the rest.
They had fun of a cannibal
At a fat neighbours burial.
I saw them dance to the music
From the cries of the weak.
Women were forced to undress
And roll in the mud amidst the duress
They used curfew as a reason
To sentence the helpless to prison.
I saw courts sit with a lot of might
To sentence the weak who couldn’t fight.
Tears rolled down cheeks of big men
As they yearned to go to their children.
Past 7pm, they were good for Luzira
If not the newly built prison at Kitalya.
I saw it and it happened.
And no one intervened
Copyright © Nkono Yeeko
The Lark Poet
+256774235929
I AM A WITNESS
“The Awaited Speech”
Always scheduled for 8:00pm
But it would begin at 9:00pm.
Thump-thump! Our hearts would beat,
As we anxiously waited
Like a husband at the labour ward.
I can never forget that period.
Finally, H.E w’d appear in white;
A colour which was his favourite.
Together with his ministers,
We would lend them our ears.
While lifting his cup – up and down
H.E w’d go ahead to extend the lockdown.
I recall; he could sometimes misteach
Then forced to return and unteach.
Like rhymes of nursery section,
The speeches had a little repetition.
His address always had lots of drama
Creating a great sense of humour.
English mixed with vernacular.
Likes of okuhunama, okwesyamura…
Some days, what came out of his mouth,
Confused us all from north to south.
And like a man undressed in the market,
We would end up sad and upset.
The address was at times tasteless
For it yielded no drop of happiness.
As H.E would occasionally undresses us
Instead of addressing us.
Then, it took centuries to end,
Never the less, we listened to the end.
As we waited for the next day
To see confusion from the previous day
Copyright © Nkono Yeeko
The Lark Poet
+256774235929
I AM A WITNESS
“Missing The Routine”
The sun woke up at dawn.
Feeling restless like a fawn,
I turned from side to side
As my sleepy eyes opened wide.
Rays of light flickered in
Through the cracks within
Then, my working suit
Looked at me with pity
A spider had spun its web
Inside the left side of his rib
He wondered what happened
For he was no longer ironed.
On the wall at level of the spike,
My necktie hanged above the bike
As lifeless as a dead snake on a branch.
She yearned for a neck to clench.
But her desire was in vain
For her master’s work was uncertain.
The alarm clock felt useless.
As my shoes looked at me with sadness
Feeling deserted, and forgotten
Growths are made their life shorten.
My knees kissed the floor
For God to let the life flow.