An exerpt from Kofi Awoonor’s poem – This Earth, My Brother
Within the airwaves we carry
Our hutted entrails; and we pray
Shrieks abandoned by lonely road-sides
as the gunmen’s boots tramp.
I lift up the chalice of hyssop and tears
to touch the lips of the thirsty
sky-wailing in a million spires
of hate and death; we pray
bearing the single hope to shine
burnishing in the destiny of my race
that glinting sword of salvation
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The ongoing chaos crippling Nairobi and captivating the world is a tragic affair that has presented a roster of victims, each with a litany of accomplishments and badges of selfless service that spans the global realm.