The cry of a concerned Kenyan youth

By Hillary Kadenge | Wednesday, Mar 4th 2020 at 10:52
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Oh God of all creation, look at our land and nation, filled with bitterness and cries from every corner. Just the other day, we cried of drought, and when the rains came, they affected us even more than the drought did. Then came a swarm of locusts that threatened our vegetation, a memory from the days of Moses.

Yet these locusts still exist in the form of human beings, grabbing all green land belonging to the poor taxpayer. And when the taxpayer runs to court, he is never listened to because the shield of justice has been sold to those with fat pockets, it is no longer a defender.

Oh, God of all creation, plenty is indeed found within our borders, but still, the poverty margins are alarming. Yesterday, I got hit by a flying toilet on my way back to kibra from industrial area, yet their house in Runda has five rooms, each with a toilet.

I was amazed that my unborn child owes the Chinese some money. I bet when WW3 starts, they will be taking us in as their war manpower. Oh, God of all creation, I have read about the 3% patriotism tax. They are even taxing us for being citizens of this country, funny.

And I hear there is a Kenyan lawyer in Canada being prevented from coming to Kenya for the burial of his mother in law because he is rowdy…yes rowdy.

They build schools but fail to pay teachers, they urge the youth to read, yet on entering the job market all jobs are given to former vice presidents, they build hospitals, but fail to stock them with enough supplies, they call for an election, yet they already know who the winner is.

Our motherland. Yet, dear God, we still perish due to lack of wisdom. They still come back to us after five years, and blind us with less than a dollar, and just like that we are tuned to dance to their rhythm. We wake up early on voting days; we even volunteer to mobilize, to go take part in a pre-determined exercise.

At the end of the day, we go back home with hope for a better tomorrow, smiley faces of triumph. It's only after morning comes that reality dawns on us, the bitter truth of being fooled again. So help us, God.

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