Isolate all my pieces, I’m broken;
Put em together, I’m a whole poem;
I write bits of my wrongs hoping I’ll be all right;
For every answer I find at daytime,
More questions arise at night;
Sometimes I feel like the tip of my pen is fire and my ink is gasoline;
At times it seems like my hand is the only thing I’m burning.
Glued to poetry, I’m unorthodox, I get high on my own truths;
Comfortable being a paradox, I got lots of nothing to prove;
Dead or alive, I don’t belong in a box for sure;
Aware of my confusion, I’m yet to find the cure;
Poetry is the infusion that makes this life easy to swallow;
It’s my redemption in this world of lunatic slaves who follow
The wind chasing dreams made in the west;
I’m no exception, I’m special, like everyone else.
This is a reflection of an illusive mind trapped in a body with a shattered heart;
These are confessions of an artist drowning in the ocean of his art;
The flow comes easy like a fart but the control is hard;
The pressure’s high when you try to be on the same list as Rugamba;
I dream of drinking with legends, every night I raise the bar.
I picked the torch from the dead
to start a new flame with an old spark;
I tread between traps but I’m not afraid,
I trust my guts, they got me this far;
The sky is my map, I’m sailing on new waves, following my star;
The journey is worth the struggle when love is every step of the way;
Worry not about death, we’ll all pass away;
I just wanna make every breath count;
You never know this could be my last one
Heartbeats don’t go on forever but every bit of em keeps us going;
So I’m gonna live for me and those that died before exploring the smiles, the wows of life;
One piece at a time…
Till I fall asleep in the eternal peace of mind.



“I’m from Kenya, I can mess you up! I’m from Kenya!” yelled the angry man as he pushed me on the floor. I tried to collect the bits of energy left but I was tipsy. It was only about 2am and there is no way I could have been drunk by then. Someone who knew me from the bar helped me get on my feet and whispered repeatedly, “Relax bro, this is Kampala. You can get killed. This is Kampaaaaaala!” and since Where-I’m-From seemed to be the game, I was about to pull my I’m-From-Rwanda card because ey, you got demons, I’ll bring hell. We hosted Lucifer for about 100 days. Even he couldn’t handle more. Then I took a deep breath and it hit me that there was no pride in coming from a place that is known for chaos or violence. I took a seat. After a short while, the angry man came down to his senses, found me and apologized. I pulled him a seat. He shared his story. It was a brutal and sad story. It was an African story- pain, despair, death of many and a few broken survivors to tell it. You know the type of stories we find ourselves trapped into and in which we somehow find comfort because then our failures are justified. But let’s be honest for a minute.

We blame our past for being too hard on us but we remain violent. We have become the same people we hated when we were younger. If you’re in a senior position whether in business or government, I’m pretty sure you’ve referred to your fellow humans as collateral “in the quest of a greater good” because you are that great.

The African solidarity only exists in folklore tales. The African Union? I’ve heard something like that for as far as I can remember. And that’s about it. But what do I know? On a personal level though, I wonder how many of us do visit the people they left in their hometowns? Ah we are not villagers anymore! We drive cars, wear ties and only associate with people we can benefit from. We are larger than life. [Whoever came up with that though pffff]. I mean a know what villagers are. What will they teach me, huh? Plus, they don’t shower. Uuggh!!

Furthermore, yes furthermore sounds like a real intellectual’s word, it feels good. I’ll say it again. Furthermore, we are busy with more important issues like saving planet Earth for our children, their children and so forth. Ours. Yours, oh they are dying? Well you shouldn’t have had so many in the first place if you didn’t plan for them. [And that’s something a certain Nyandwi (the seventh child) would say].
Anyway we are saving our planet. We are environmental-friendly. We love our environment and that’s why we cannot cut down trees. Ey what would we pee on when we park our SUV’s in the middle of traffic, huh? Priorities.

On corruption? We hate our corrupt systems, don’t we? You just can’t get a contract without kickbacks unless you’re related to the decision-maker who will only get shares in the project, no big deal. It’s just appreciation. Gotta be grateful, right? Just like the notes we slide into the registration papers when cops stop us because the light on the number plate is broken and for such a big offense they’ll forgive and we must be grateful. We must. We love our police. Now shall we print those shirts or carry boards with hash tags?

On resources? Well we’ve got the brains. Brains money cannot buy. We are all geniuses. We don’t who invented the wheel so we will reinvent it just so the world knows that we did.

On taxes? Well it’s none of your business. It’s for your own good. You will be fine(d). How dare you complain about the lack of water, electricity or the rent increament yet you were a nobody nowhere a few years back? How dare you? 

See, we are the New Africa. We are better than the mistakes of our fathers. We are better fathers, mothers, peaceful, respectful, compassionate, intelligent individuals with great visions. The future is ours. It is pan-African, isn’t it? After all the progress is immense and opportunities are equal. We don’t just say T.I.A anymore, we sing T.I.N.A because, say it with me, This Is New Africa (since 1960)

Modern Slave


My collar is white, never on a single occasion has it been blue;
I speak like bazungu, my brain runs on Caucasian 1.2
After all I’ve been trained to think and operate like them;
Or at least to imitate them;
And excelling means I emulate them;
No it’s not selling out, it’s being civilized;
Have you not heard of the benefits of being colonized?
Check it out…
I’m an elite, you can tell from my accent;
I’m 100% sure I’m one of the 1%;
My language is innovation, I represent;
Civility, creativity, fashion, I talk books;
My neighbors get on their feet and salute;
That stands for something, right?
“Hello boss” they say when I drive by;
And like a boss, I nod quietly, you know the sign, right?
To show off my cool side, I raise two fingers effortlessly;
These poor niggers don’t deserve my energy;
They’re only good at drinking cheap beer and eating dust;
The only thing they build in my hood is distrust;
So I lock my car doors, roll up my windows;
And enjoy the best of Mozart’s concertos;

See, I’m a classic maaaaaaan

Check my suit, give me some credit;
I got class, my former school mates don’t get it;
JD in my glass, if you got it, flaunt it;
I smell like money, devil’s shit;
The rest looks like crap, bull shit;
I’m a modern man, I got trust issues;
You can’t understand unless you’re in these shoes;
Where I come from, appearance is everything;
Not where I was born, not the village;
I’m talking about this city where it’s a privilege
To have a job, a car and a good wage;
I work from 8 till the job is done… extra time unpaid;
“It’s for your own good, my bosses say”
They tell me what to do and how to – it’s gotta be their way;
They say “work hard and all this could be yours one day”
And I believe them. I believe they care;
So I breathe their objective, mission and vision;
I embrace their philosophy, my ambitions switch to a higher position;
I hope they will not replace me
With a younger and cheaper version of myself;
So I’m constantly on email like it’s  always a matter of life and death;
And somehow the misery of my peers makes me feel superior;
Anyone getting in my way becomes a ladder;
The worst that could ever happen is be a farmer;
What good would it do to my awesome grammer?
Yes I’m a close book, I prefer being judged by my cover;
It’s colorful pimped with golden paper all over;
If you don’t like me, well, fuck you;
I’m a modern man and I will not change for you.
I’m a modern maaaaaaan