He Didn't Die Easy

M.W. Kimani

 

About the Author


The author is an African female journalist living in Kigali Rwanda.  For the last five years she has covered Rwanda’s post genocide reconstruction and healing, the peace process in Burundi and the war in the Democratic Republic of Congo. She began writing poetry when she was about fourteen and some of her pieces have won awards and competitions in her native country Kenya. She is often described as intense and deeply spiritual. She holds a masters in communication psychology.

 

Can be bought through most bookstores in the US, Canada and the UK as well as the major online retailers Barnes&Noble, Amazon.com and many others.

About the Book


A forest of graves. One of many, scattered across this continent. And it speaks to me, on the one hand, of the senselessness of it all- the wars, the famines, the floods, the fights for power, the deaths from AIDs; the wasted potential.

And yet it speaks to me of nothing. Because nothing explains adequately the tragic and terrifying things that are happening to in this land. No one gives a comprehensive satisfactory answer to the many whys of it all- not just the wars and the deaths, but all the pains we carry inside of us.

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They found her body today,

cold-

Wrapped in a flimsy sheet,

left by the roadside.

 

She looked as she had, hours before,

when life still coursed her veins-innocent.

 

They could not find her mother,

who knows what came over her?

 

But these are difficult days

nobody hates her too much.

 

So they hurried to remove the body,

it was a sore

a reminder of all we have been through

of all the things that have ceased to matter

of life that has slipped through our grasp.

 

 

There were times,

when there were cries of joyful children

stuffing their stomachs with wild fruit,

shouting in wild abandon-

A profusion of exultant sounds...

Shrieks of delight.

 

The rain has eaten the laugher away.

 

It pounds relentlessly...

And the voices of cheer have been stilled.

The earth is nourished by the rain

but our souls have withered.

 

We have wept too long,

this endless rain

that falls from our faces.

 

Now there is emptiness-

Icy, cold silences, full of fear.

It rains suspicion,

anger.

Pain-

The rain has eaten the laughter away