So Much For Hope

Held apart by supposed unity,
Shaking hands while yielding knives,
Ready to stab backs at the slightest chance.
Hatred is whispered in deserted alleys
As peace is shouted on mountain tops.

They plant seeds of hatred and self perfection
On soils polluted by societal judgement.
They wash us with spit
And pretend we are sparkling clean at heart.
They rinse us with promises
And let us dry in our regrets in half-decade turns
As they take dips in the depths of our hopeful poverty
And fish whatever is left.
In the name of Maendeleo.

Our sons and daughters
Are indebted to foreigners.
All their lives they'll toil to pay back,
While their sons and daughters drink in exquisite bars.

What is left for my sons and daughters?
They watched their mother heave her last
As nurses yielded complaints in the sun.
They missed a term at school
As their teachers yielded complaints in the sun.
They watched it all,
With their hope deep in the good governance,
But their eyes got heavy
And they slept their betrayal away.

Now they ask me of my choice
And my hands remain tied.
Will my next choice remember me?
I don't know.
I've heard promises before,
I've counted those kept
But was overwhelmed by the forgotten,
The power of the vote, my sons and daughters,
Is my own,
But the choice has never been.