THE GHETTO

These dirty roads,poor sanitation
Leaking sewers,water rationing
Our mabati;wood-made 'mansions'
Yet I am still proud of the ghetto

The crime in our streets
Daily,drugs claiming lives
Hungry beggars,wasted talents
Yet I am still proud of the ghetto

As I compose my poems
Raindrops pours on my head
Oh!my roof is leaking
I run outside for fifty shillings
Offered by the 'vulture' politician
For my bowels to feed on something
Yet I am still proud of the ghetto

I walk through the streets
I see the expectant light
On the students eyes
The will in the hawkers
The wisdom in old voices
The vigour,valour of our youth,women
And this is my pride
One of belonging to a GHETTO.