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Kimathi's Statue
And eventually, here they are,
Feet that must have tread brambles
Combing for snakes of huamnity...
His resurrection, immortalized, and
Concretized with a silvery statue standing
Imposingly over the living mass of Kimathi street;
A bold rock, aggressive in his hand,with a riffle;
Face and mouth crudely sculpted as if
Bruised by an alien grammar,
Wrinkled with high-bone ridges,
A richness of history, proud seeming
To the course he died for;
On the head dark dreadlocks curled
Harvazardly, knotted with clay-balls,
A kind of fetish of the liberation struggle.
But no more stealth walks in the foul forest;
You became the lamp of the land, in this image
You enter the hall of heroes,
For men of prudence have taken action at last;
So you are the image
Of unlimited embrace in independent Nairobi.
