That's our Nairobi

Always in motion,
That’s what I remember.
Commuting Nairobi:
Matatus and traffic,
Queues round the block.
Pollution, inconvenience,
That was Nairobi.
It still is Nairobi.That intangible sense that something’s about to happen,
That history’s being made,
That I’m a part of the scene,
That is Nairobi,
That’s what I kept of her.
The markets, salons,
Nyam choms and benga,
The Sunday crusades and family outings,
The singers, the saints,
The lovers, the hypocrites,
They make up Nairobi,
They define the city.
The bars round the corner-
I can’t say I missed those,
But what is Nairobi without her walevi?
What is a city without its drunks,
Its philosopher-poets, kings of the moment?
Like it or hate it,
That is Nairobi.
Blooming, decaying,
Nectar and maggots,
Today and tomorrow,
Now Jekyll, now Hyde,
That’s our Nairobi
A landscape of madness.

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This work is licensed to Rose Kahendi under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Unported License.

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