TOM MWARARIA

CONSUL- TOM MWARARIA  is a Social Rights Advocate,Kenyan Writer,Journalist and Author of ‘The land of Bones’ –a collection of short-stories.His essays feature stories and short stories have appeared in magazines,newspapers and journals such as The Kalahari review,Hekaya Review,Writers Space Africa,East Africa Sustainable Tourism Agenda,Bibsbebe Magazine,Daily Nation and Academia.

A Pan-Africanist at Heart,Rights Campaigner and environmentalist, he has been awarded Eco-Warrior Award by Eco-Tourism Kenya for promoting people, culture and Heritage through writing.In 2018 he was nominated as finalist Youth Advocate of the Year by Africa Youth Awards.

Mwiraria, the Founder Nairobi Literary Café is also a Member of International Journalists Network (Ijnet), Young African Leaders Initiative (YALI) and Writers Guild Kenya. He is currently writing a collection of short-stories.

TOM MWARARIA

CONSUL-TOM MWARARIA es un defensor de los derechos sociales, escritor keniano, periodista y autor de ' la tierra de los huesos '-una colección de cuentos cortos. Sus ensayos cuentan con historias y relatos breves que han aparecido en revistas, periódicos y revistas como The Kalahari Review, Hekaya Review, escritores Space Africa, agenda de turismo sustentable de África Oriental, Bibsbebe Magazine, Daily Nation y Academia.

Un Panafricanista de corazón, defensor de los derechos humanos y ecologista, ha sido galardonado con el premio eco-Guerrero por el eco-turismo de Kenia por la promoción de la gente, la cultura y el patrimonio a través de la escritura. En 2018 fue nominado como finalista de Youth Advocate del año por los premios africanos de la juventud.

Mwiraria, el fundador Nairobi Literary café es también miembro de la red internacional de periodistas (IJNet), iniciativa de jóvenes líderes africanos (YALI) y Writers Guild Kenya. Actualmente está escribiendo una colección de cuentos cortos.

Comrade Pluto

To Comrade Pluto,

By brotherhood in suffering,

By holy sadness,by comrade power and concern,

By oath and patriotism,

By stubborn art of never giving up,

By simple pleasure of truth,

By hope of revolution,

By destiny of purpose,

Comrade power !

Comrade?

Dear Pluto,

I'm distraught to write this for umpteenth time. Have you become a stranger to hope ? Has the scarlet flow of ancestors that swam gallantly In your veins frozen? Have you folded your tail and slithered away whimpering We have talked about it numerous times .Hear me now, get out of that little, hideous town at the outskirts of civilization where nothing happens and take the world by its horns. Get out sticks Pluto, demolish imaginary boundaries. Separate yourself from slaves, boys and deceived. Battle darkness. Launch yourself, lead yourself revolution Pluto. A man is his own constitution. Do not be at the mercy of dusk comrade. Resist the bandits of hope.

So Pluto ,live dangerously, bide the fear of making mistakes, break some conventional rules. Do not give in to the vain, do not accept the status quo ,reject the slothful, resist the whiners ,ignore the cynical, do not be dragged along by wild horses ,do not be influenced by cats comrade, ignore the basic Pharisees and heathen owls.Pluto,what is literature if it is written by parroting sages without courage ? Choose instead to be instructed by practical men like Jesus ,Socrates ,Che Guevara ,Carl Max,Napoleon Bonaparte ,Mandela,Wangari Mathai ,Pio Gma Pinto, Thomas Sankara ,Mother Theresa ,Winnie Mandela ,Malcomx,Luther King Jnr .

Be wary of barbarics and spies ,fight the soldiers of void and Lords of Utopia by pen. Lead change Pluto. Do it comrade ,do it ,do it ,do it .Do not be a terrified rabbit in an ocean.So that someday thoughts of regret won't stampede in your mind ,so that your soul will depart without soot and crumbles, so that you won't regret when your are old and wrinkled and your anatomies tremble and joints creak, when life burrows dig your forehead with dull lines, and eyes dull ,and passion deserts your soul. Be a friend of God comrade. Remember the tablets ,live by divine codes-remember the faith and valor of the ancients Pluto.Remember,remember, remember Pluto it's all about purpose, the essence of life is not to be happy to serve, and true happiness despite comes from service Pluto.

Educate your mind Pluto, relentlessly master every technology available.Use the charm and vigor of youth as a launch pad of greatest aspiration. Remember the parable of the talents ? Do not bury your inherent strengths -just do not seek validation.Explore multi-universe of imagination, no yardstick for this, break boundaries Pluto.You can be anything ,use your abilities and they will be multiplied Pluto ,the world is in your hands.Do not squander time by fleeting pleasures ,do not fritter away the waning treasure of your youth .So rise up Pluto- work ,laugh, love,defend the flag-Long live Pluto .

Yours in struggle,

Truthful to a fault,

Son of Ng’aa, human of dreams, friend of light and foe of dusk,

Comrade to Dr.Miguna Miguna

Follower of Jesus Christ, believer of prophecies by Ezekiel son of Uzi and Amos a herdsman and dresser of Sycamore, Student of Socrates, Descartes, Ralph Waldo Emerson, he Guevara ,Ken Saro Wiwa,Prof .Mkangi.

On this Earthian shore

At the Border of time

Embattled Republic of Pen

Day 4, the fourth venerable month in the year of our Lord 2019.

Ruins of Poetry

Is this the city?
The few dwellers, is this the city of the ancient giants?
Is this where hangs the shreds of poetry
Is this where lies disjointed remains of giants of yore?
The Lord Byron and Frost and Shakespeare and Wordsworth
How in peace can they rest in ruins?
In a city governed without law
In a city of profanation
In a city of broken tablets 
And forgotten poetry codes
I come to chasten the profaners of the verse 
Those who have gone left and right of the verse 
I come to chasten
Without malice and least trepidation 
And hopefully revive the lost splendor 
Else the city will lie in pity 
Hear me out the lawbreakers !
You have forgotten rhymes
Fix it!
And metaphors
Fix it!
And similes
Fix it!
And onomatopoeia and alliteration
And oh much in commandments
Fix it!
Lest poetry ruins too fade!

Tell me  a tale

Tell me the secrets of my wife. Tell me of priests without faith and tortoises with pride. Of snakes with gold.Of assassins of hope and killers of tomorrow. Of descendants of stars, queens of hope, lions prowling Savannah grass sway,the eyes of falcon and griffins, of warriors and friends, of friends of light and foes of dusk.

Tell me a tale told by the fireside as dazzling specks thunder before our dreamy eyes. Clutching on each other too terrified to go out because the bandits and hunters of men are having a field night.

Tell me a tale of mother Africa,wounded by her home-grown dictators. From oppressive and corrupt regime of Sani Abacha, a stone age dictator addicted to blood.Mobutu Sese Seko Kuku Ngbendu Wa Za Banga- the rogue who left a trail of fire in his path.Dicator Jomo Kenyatta,their orphans and minions-the true enemies of democracy,the agents of squalor, regression, persecution,wails and pangs of hunger .

Tell me a tale while acrid,poisoned rain weeps over mute hills of Ng'aa ,as a lonely owl mourns the obliteration of a multitude of fellow bird species .Tell me of a world where the call of Nightingale was replaced by sound of gun.

Tale me a tale of a mother weeping all night because the soldiers of utopia took away her only son and he was never again found.A tale of human rights trampled ,mouths gagged ,feet chained and brains washed.How he saw light fade from the sky and how in the deep dark he heard a groan of his fallen brother.How he fought them foes till he was the last standing.How he was wounded ,and how he limped over hills and down valleys ,hungry and thirsty,unable to tell where a thorny path through the jungle would take him.

As black wind ominously whistles in the valley where a strange beast crouches tell me a tale .Tell me a tale as the lady moon in pearl chariot cruises through the galaxy whose wonders and signs of the coming Armageddon the heathens have ignored.

Tell me a tale by bedroom in velvety whispers as we worry about our sinful souls. By electric lamps in a room where no silence breaks because machines do not talk and whom can you dare tell horrors you carry in the soul and pain that pierces the core of your soul ?

Tell me a tale of betrayal in the city of bones with treacherous land mines disguised as men ,beer and women. Tell me how like mountains, they are stoic ,mute and unfeeling. How they are never moved by the whispers and cries of the wind.

Tell me of souls that charmed you but they did not stay. Their gravity still pulls you to the past .How you orbit about what was and was lost.How you hoped she would rain showers and torrents ,and soak you with her oceans but she didn’t even spit at you.

Tell me a story written by candlelight, the breathing, the cry ,the groans of a soul when the night descends on the earth with a dark veil.A tale whispered in the core of the night. Only heard by the owls and the souls that would rather not fall asleep. A tale of a man who defined epitome of manhood ,a lady who split infinitives ,a tale of boy with belly aching will and voice like a roar of a waterfall.Tell me of moraness ,a lioness breath standing out in the mist.Tell me a tale of a girl you mistook for a winged seraph of heavens high.

A story punctuated by joy, sorrow, longing, beauty and surprising joy. Joy of emancipation, progression ,a bloom of success.Of someone who like meteor hurtling through the skies cannot go back where they came from. Tell me of love that overcame storms ,tempests, aches ,hurts ,pains and struggles ,tell me of a rose that grew from concrete.

A tale of the lord of silvery fountains. Of treasures hidden in Bermuda .Of enemies defeated,and song of triumph sung as night falls.Tell me a tale of civilization that came to ruins and empires forged.Tell me about the fall of the house of Usher ,tell me about the fall of Gil-Gad as told by Allan Poe.

A tale of wanderer who cannot stay still because a man was not made like a tree to stay transfixed,or stay confined in a pond like a toad. Tell me of broken wings that flapped and flew and even to this day they fly through the stormiest of nights and leads those unfortunate out of the darkness.Tell me a tale of courage and never giving up when it seemed like the last option left me.A tale of a soul that has seen the darkest side of moon.A tale of spirit dazzled by sun,that only breathes optimism and love for a jew ,a gentile and all humans transcending race ,color ,creed ,education ,gender and religion .

Tell me of the eventual chaining of Kanaloa ,the old ,clever serpent of yore from Vai Tu Po ,the deceiver of a man to spend his life in vanity.Tell me of a world without him.

Tell me of a King that is soon coming to restore broken codes and heal the infirmities of the suffering,bathe their wounds with love and bring despots ,reptilians and their surrogates to justice.Tell me how sorrow will dissipate and no more afflict the human soul.Tell me how ancient songs of Angels shall once again be res-strung and sound with golden distillation.Tell me how trees will wave as he descends on the might hill written in the undying texts of yore.Tell me how his crown will shine and fill all the earth with glory.

Tell me a tale because after food,shelter and clothing we need stories to be human.