Oh dear me,
When I was a child.
Looking up to my father,
A man having his own will in the house.
Observing him getting the tea before he asked,
Clothes ironed before he left the bathroom,
Scooter cleaned and lunch was packed.
Oh dear me thinking what a life he has
He must be enjoying this place.
Oh dear me,
When I was a child
Seeing my elder brother’s rebel behaviour
To say no to mum for chores
To go out in the day and only be back before dad comes back.
And to study late at night, or watch movies
He must be enjoying his life.
Oh stupid me when I was a child,
Seeing a kid who didn’t go to school,
Always in the playgrounds with nothing to worry,
No home work to do, His days must be merry.
Or at least that’s what I thought.
Illusion of freedom I had in my brain,
Too young to see life’s perspective and understand.
And now I feel like I know somethings
That kid in playground was yearning for a school,
Couldn’t afford to study, he made playground his home
His freedom isn’t something he hoped for,
He cried seeing every kids with backpack walking along,
And a little more growing up I reached to my brother’s age,
Now I know what was his mental stage,
Too much pressure to prove oneself,
Life’s biggest decisions at this tender age,
To make it big academically,
To fit in, to make a name,
Exams, entrances and new societal norms
Getting into big colleges isn’t an easy dream,
So many preparation,
So little of life to live.
Now that I could understand his thoughts,
Suddenly his rebel behaviour didn’t seem too odd.
I also re-evaluated my other views
And the biggest was the reality of my father’s shoes
Oh the sense of duty, love, care and fulfil his dues
That packed lunch meant he won’t spend for outside food,
That rigid time schedule wasn’t his choice,
Those were the rules he had to abide,
Living his days buried under enormous works
He put own dreams aside for us.
Oh dear me when I was the child,
The world I saw was free except for me,
Had this illusion of freedom for everybody,
Now that I’ve grown up into this machine,
I know for a fact they were never free.
Different Traditional Houses Of Different Kenyan Communities
How unjust will this life we board be? If it should stop on meeting with death. Won’t he who guarded his desires well serving the purpose he was created for be as same as those who transgressed? So Allah, the Most Mighty, the Most Just made two paths, for each to move on Believers to paradise, infidels to hell So the journey can continue leaving death behind. Paradise, a world where desires are fulfilled. Hearts will be content, As reflected on their faces. Terror and grief will mould the faces in hell. Despair will acquire an eternal home- their heart. Neighbours in this cosmos living in a corner. Any advice on our purpose Is better than golds gift. Islam has been painted by many as darkness But, Qur’an is its sacred book Revealed by the Almighty. Read it and be enlightened watch its effect on your heart’s brush as it clears the falsehoods; Polishing the image to leave a picture. Embrace it and You will feel peaceful
Traditional Homes Of Different Kenyan Communities