St. brians Alumni-Vihiga

Meshack Bwoyele Keya

THE WHEELBARROW

Little knowledge is dangerous.
Knowledge can be power marvelous.
The wheelbarrow is a good farm tool.
It has one wheel so to fool.
A wheelbarrow carries dirt.
We push it hard and fart.
The wheelbarrow has a story.
Can it be better than a lorry?

I retired quite early in life.
I acquired a wheelbarrow, panga and knife.
In the shamba was my hustle.
It was hard and full of bustle.
Never do I want to reverse.
Mine was a tough verse.
The wheelbarrow has a story.
Can it be better than a lorry?

The wheelbarrow lacked oil.
It made noise so to spoil.
I sweated to push this helper.
Not an easy job so to whisper.
The wheel on one side leant.
To torture it may have meant.
The wheelbarrow has a story.
Can it be better than a lorry?

I received names in plenty.
The sound poluter comes in a panty.
The wheelbarrow announced my entry.
It was a story so sorry.
My comrades away did scamper.
They wanted not with me to camper.
The wheelbarrow has a story.
Can it be better than a lorry?

I negate the wheelbarrow with force.
Maybe you give me another choice.
A wheelbarrow looks superior on another.
The one driving it be a torture.
A wheelbarrow on a hill irritates.
Sometimes on reverse one imitates.
The wheelbarrow has a story.
Can it be better than a lorry?

Rainy seasons are worse with a wheelbarrow.
It's wheel will in the mud barrow.
Pushing it will be sweat.
You will end drenched up in sweat.
I prefer a computer to the wheelbarrow.
It matters not even to borrow.
A wheelbarrow makes me soiled.
My body becomes hard and boiled.
The wheelbarrow has a story.
Can it be better than a lorry?

Do not rejoice with oppression.
People will use you in succession.
Am given a present so lowly.
Oppressors use machines so highly.
You are paid to shout.
Your mouth used to pout.
The wheelbarrow has a story.
Can it be better than a lorry?

THE WHEELBARROW

Little knowledge is dangerous.
Knowledge can be power marvelous.
The wheelbarrow is a good farm tool.
It has one wheel so to fool.
A wheelbarrow carries dirt.
We push it hard and fart.
The wheelbarrow has a story.
Can it be better than a lorry?

I retired quite early in life.
I acquired a wheelbarrow, panga and knife.
In the shamba was my hustle.
It was hard and full of bustle.
Never do I want to reverse.
Mine was a tough verse.
The wheelbarrow has a story.
Can it be better than a lorry?

The wheelbarrow lacked oil.
It made noise so to spoil.
I sweated to push this helper.
Not an easy job so to whisper.
The wheel on one side leant.
To torture it may have meant.
The wheelbarrow has a story.
Can it be better than a lorry?

I received names in plenty.
The sound poluter comes in a panty.
The wheelbarrow announced my entry.
It was a story so sorry.
My comrades away did scamper.
They wanted not with me to camper.
The wheelbarrow has a story.
Can it be better than a lorry?

I negate the wheelbarrow with force.
Maybe you give me another choice.
A wheelbarrow looks superior on another.
The one driving it be a torture.
A wheelbarrow on a hill irritates.
Sometimes on reverse one imitates.
The wheelbarrow has a story.
Can it be better than a lorry?

Rainy seasons are worse with a wheelbarrow.
It's wheel will in the mud barrow.
Pushing it will be sweat.
You will end drenched up in sweat.
I prefer a computer to the wheelbarrow.
It matters not even to borrow.
A wheelbarrow makes me soiled.
My body becomes hard and boiled.
The wheelbarrow has a story.
Can it be better than a lorry?

Do not rejoice with oppression.
People will use you in succession.
Am given a present so lowly.
Oppressors use machines so highly.
You are paid to shout.
Your mouth used to pout.
The wheelbarrow has a story.
Can it be better than a lorry?

Why Today Marriages Do Not Work Anymore.

Do you know more divorce papers are signed nowadays than marriage certificates? Some marriages seem to work in public while they are dead in private. There are people in marriage for children or shame of separating.

My mom, God rest her soul in peace, once told me that most marriages were customary arranged by elderly members of the family. The two would be spouses never knew each other. Some marriages were pre-arranged in childhood. The two people were at first proven to be virgins before they married. An aunt was called in to direct them on how to engage in conjugal matters. Interesting!

Yet, we deviated from such norms in pretext of love. Men and women alike started tasting the broth before it was well cooked. Once tasted, they could walk from pot to pot chancing the best cooked broth. Virginity began heading to the rocks and undergarments, which was a taboo to be seen, started falling off at a mere sight of the opposite s*x. He who has tasted Chapati often salivates at a mere aroma of it. The one who hasn't is never swayed by it.

"What's smelling?" They are heard to enquire.

You can imagine the people who are now entering in marriage as a couple. They have tasted Chapatis cooked by many cooks that they know how to sample sweet ones. Now whatever they end up with in marriage is the usual. The mind roams from the conjugal bed to allies, the bush and lodgings. Men in the house do not satisfy them anymore. The women too started wearing full armour as they go to bed and face the wall throughout the night. Who taught these ladies and men about satisfaction? They had tasted the meat before and knew exactly where it was tender and tasted sweet.

Divorce papers started being signed.

Today, what we were not supposed to see though we knew were there, started being displayed for any who cared to see. What with Minnies, tops and sagging trousers. Gaysm and Lesbianism did not spare marriages too.