THE ELECT

Kenyan President-elect H.E Uhuru and Prime minister Raila

For they are the elect

They are driven at noon

Through thick traffic

Along the flag draped highway

Undisturbed,

Their women beside them

They go to the banquet

At the guarded hall, where, at night

Psychedelic lights marry

Native drums

Their women, beside them, fumble

With handbag mirrors, reflecting

On eye lashes

And sunshades

And lipstick and cutex;

Adjusting wigs or head cloths

Worrying about creases and armpits

And quadruplet

Of deodorants

For they are the elect

They are driven in ceremonies grace,

On the heels of the master,

Cackling “Actually, actually…”

Cackling

In parrot fashion

They shake hands with gloved ambassadors

Pointing thumbs over shoulders

At spectating subjects

They walk up the red-carpeted marble

Steps, laughing Oxbridge

African culture

Into a hall of British China

French cutlery

German wood

They swagger in refinement

They swagger into the clapping hall

In proud tail cocks…

Peacocks of a lost generation

- By Mauri Yambo