Art Lab

Cultures are becoming torturing. Last night, the twenty sixth of January I had  robbed a sleep only to be awoken by a gun shot. My heart bumped thinking it was the normal stuff of Kakuma: looting. Minutes passed and I received a phone call to attest it was an attack in group nine in line with Fashoda Primary School opposite Rajaf Police Station. As I welcomed these gentlemen into the school, they told me that a day after, their colleaque eloped with a lady and when told to return her, they refused. They told me they spent the whole day in the lagga to make it to Nimule Primary School in the evening to hear what would happen. At Eleven O'clock at night, these people (lady's relatives) after warning severally broke into the group breaking the gate. Men who used to be in the group all escaped some through an opening under the fence. With this wrath if not scaring to get dowry, women who were found were beaten. One unlucky woman whom I learned came recently from Sudan got ...

 Jangageer was a land far and wide where a child was born. He received a warm welcome with termites oil at dusk. Dark signified the bearer of the shield who would be known to none other than the inhabitants of the land. The child grew up under nobility as their noble King waited for sacrificial instructions from gods. They were reluctant. His dwelling was sacred, the house of the mighty one of Chiek who was Chiek like gods of Jangageer. His parents visited him yet none dined with him. His words were respected the words of the mighty one. Once upon a time in his fifteenth age he sought permission from their noble King. ~ My noble King, he said. Knelt and skin covered his feet. Gods were silent respecting the words of the mighty one who prostrated respectfully. ~I need a walk eastwards, he asked, I see light every night so let me collect it for our good. It was puzzling to the King before he made up his mind to call Oleere and all the elders. When the King ordered guards ran and ...

Exercise to create room for connection of electricity in Kakuma: Department for Refugee Affairs (DRA) known as camp manager's office reinforced resizing of roads in Kakuma. I set my eyes on this last December when Shops and Hotels in Ethiopian community were resized to allow adequate space for vehicles, bicycles, motor bikes and the people. This road was widened through to the former Nuer Community now multicultural. It extended to Somali, Burundi and Rwanda communities behind Ngundeng Primary School, now vacated, to create another road alongside Mogadishu Primary School and deep into Burundi and Rwanda communities. "In our community, only fences were destroyed," said Tito, a Child Development Worker (CDW) at UNHCR field post one, who handles even issues of shelter and protection because he said they work hand in hand with UNHCR and NCCK. Tito stressed it is to let police and GSU access the community and Boda boda taxis, bicycles and motor bikes. In Equatoria-Sudanese...

How huge are you? To block all the entrances Leaving no space for the less privileged To squeeze themselves in And get fresher air Your steps make eyes full with dust Engaging tear glands to release excessive tears And eyes reddened They wander like strangers When qualified Can't you train your children? You may need to muster wealth But old age at the door You bear snow in your head Teeth as good as rusted nail Chewing tobacco every minute Others of your type looking for things tender Coffee every four hours A token for being born before them You don't face backward And building of the nation in progress Who is eager to make it real? If you weren't brought up You won't have been who you are Can't you bring them up? And what if you run out of age? Don't you need equality? Right to equal treatment you are contrary to Keeping your body swelled Thank God, I am not your employer, If I were, I would have laid a bait or set a trap...

It's to let the lion go Disunity, the solid chance A miss and a cry A miss and we go Beyond the scorning hills Choice is yours Choice is in your hands Choice is mine I have a wise choice I suppose you too Cast votes of separation It's time to shout it out aloud My proposal without yours is useless Crazy choice you make affects me Crazy choice I make spoils you Not there anymore That den has a lion It roars and you off Grief will be mine I have foreseen Don't let me cry blood

Cries all day long, suffering where they belong Running up and down Like horses in a race, Because of disgrace And tremble like a chameleon On a frail twig, Of a tree called fig Never do they expect mercy And fantasy From the trouble makers, Who don't behave like caretakers Since they laugh At those groaning in pain They celebrate, Their waste ordeal, Thinking that it's a good deal As they eat meat of infants Which is against the creator, Who lives even in the crater Suffering is what they deserve, Never will they be served, If I am to cue Life to the queue Of everlasting fire