01/05/2025
Echoes of Yesterday
Before the world grew fast and loud,
We woke beneath a gentler cloud.
The rooster's crow, the morning chill,
The scent of dew on every hill.
Bulls yoked early, strong and slow,
Turning earth in rhythmic flow.
Their breath like smoke in frosty air,
As fathers toiled with patient care.
Children's chatter filled the path,
Books in arms, escaping math.
Barefoot races down the lane,
Laughing through the morning rain.
Power saws buzzed like distant bees,
Carving wood beneath the trees.
Men in caps with steady eyes,
Building homes beneath wide skies.
Radios hummed with voice and song,
KBC all day long.
"Je huu ni ungwana?" they'd say,
Teaching truth the classic way.
Evenings wrapped in fireside tales,
Of hunters' feats and ghostly trails.
Grandma knitting by the light,
As stars blinked through the velvet night.
Chapatis turned on smoky pans,
Children stole with sticky hands.
Milk straight from the morning cow,
Sweet and warm—oh, even now!
No screens, no keys, just heart and hand,
A bond that time can't understand.
Those were days we truly knew,
When simple things were deep and true.
