A dream called Matatu There is a dream called Matatu When brand new, it is a sight to behold Loudly announces its arrival-horns blowing sirens blaring, music pumping, tyres screeching People gape and gawk, stare and gaze, flustered Everybody wants to ride in it For it is the talk of the town. There is a dream called Matatu For a few kilometres it flies over hills and glides down valleys Eagles are left behind as it streaks by People reach their destinations faster, farther For the dream is brand new. There is a dream called Matatu Soon everyone is milking it for all its worth The council askaris for parking fees The traffic police wants a bribe The tout an extra slice of wages The driver sells the face of the music system and reports it missing And banks chase the owner for loan repayments. There is a dream called Matatu Some days it stalls or won’t start up Its painting a cracked and its fender a bender It staggers with a creak and threaten to fall apart Even the mechanics are rioting Very soon, it will be beyond repair, they wail. And so I have learnt to quieten my dream For it is said still dreams run deep And some people are dream killers For they will ride you like a Matatu Leaving you broken- dismantled beyond repair And they will move on to the next Matatu A brand new Matatu which is a sight to behold. zurikiki/poetry/a-dream-called-matatu/
Posted on: Mon, 13 Oct 2014 07:14:34 +0000
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