The Terror at Dusk

The dusk had dawned, but a little bit too early,
She could swear high up above she could see the moon,
Just when yesterday promised today would bloom,
All of a sudden, too bright for a night in that little room,
Could it be the rapture?

Her heart thumped to the beat of a prayer she whispered,
The deafening noises ensured her hope was withered,
Her pretty bundle might wake scared she feared,
In the confusion of a long night she slithered,
A little courage might get her through.

Devastated by the quick peek just outside her window,
She saw no signs at all of a probable rainbow,
The application to live, for a minute she wanted to withdraw,
But the innocence that lay still in bed hit her like a blow,
Win one victory for two wars fought

Flashes of headlines filmed quick through her tight eyelids,
She saw it happen, never thought to witness it in clear bits,
A friend told her about it, now the missing piece fits,
It was no longer a tale told, on unwrapping of sweets,
God existed now more than ever before.


A bang on her door, froze her adrenaline,
Then a breaking glass heat it up, her life was on the line,
As she ran to grab pretty, it was too late for a fine,
Men…three in number, she was sure it wasn’t a sign,
The end of time was here.

‘Spare my little one!’ she pleaded in broken tones of distress,
She should have hushed because they cared less,
One bullet in her head, his best shot like a game of chess,
Another little bullet, in pretty’s little head…God bless
In peace they rest, mother-daughter.

Then it was calm, the dust settled and the sun scotched but the stench of gun powder made a mix with smoke. Land of thousands deserted in just a night. I stepped out of the closet and went out to publish my terror story as it had all happened before my eyes.

Message from OOGAM
I grew tired of telling the government to emphasize on security matters. I can’t work for the intelligence service either. The journalist I am will only tell you of the tragic tales. Wait…what should I do to be safe, but above all, what shall I do for a brother too?
My heart goes out to the families of all those who lost their loved ones in the Mpeketoni Attack on 15th June, 2014.

Survivour in The City Jungle

A million dollar face, a multi dollar trace,
Fortune worth a chase, not worth enough praise,
More than three thousand ways, to try and describe her grace,
In a rest I put my case, forget the glamour of the place,
It was all just a lie, well embraced beneath the lights.

Life is unfair, then karma and life must be a pair,
True to my opinion I swear, take a big bite off the pear,
Pick something to wear, something that will not tear,
Have the heart to dare, choose a path one too rare,
The journey only grows tough, and the weather proves a little rough.

Give a limb for a penny, count 1…2…3 till twenty,
They call it shady; judge you like they see it on telly,
They tell a story about a ferry, but they do not mention a tale of fairy,
No time for petty, got to stand out and look pretty,
It’s what a girl’s got to do, to keep her on a loop.

The sun rests beneath the horizon, strip off the mask of treason,
Inside a beautiful person, a heart strong like a mason,
One day when she gets a son, she’d want her to be a Tyson,
Strong but clean, a hustler but neat.
She lives each day praying for the odds, that her past never gets to haunt her future.

Message from OOGAM

Painting by Frank Morrison: Stunning Black Woman

Respect a black woman and do not judge her. If she never borrowed you a coin to buy some food, then don’t point at what she does to feed and clothe herself.