Broken Heart

Pick up the pieces and sew them together.

Tell me the story of a broken heart,

that has been so severly crumbled to dust, 

Like tobacco powder in an old woman’s hands, 

Grinding the grains using her rough fingers, 

That the pieces never see the light of day.


Show me the vulnerability of a broken heart, 

when the days became dark as night, 

and your soul is frozen over, 

You couldn’t even remember how light looks like, 

and your tears were all but dried up,


Tell me the tales of your broken heart, 

When you learnt of the power of love, 

So great and overwhelming, 

It holds your life in its firm hands, 

no escape, no redemption.

Tell me the tales of a broken heart, 

when you learnt to get rid of the hurt, 

Slowly but surely, 

and smiled once again at the face of adversity, 

You were safe,  you were okay. 


      Is it so bad to see people different from us succeed? 

The world is continually becoming claustrophobic every single day.  I feel the walls closing in every time a I’m associated to label. The society mercilessly wants me to behave a certain way that a few barbaric individuals have invented. They want me to play the still good Passenger in their pretty  bus. 

When I was in high school,  stereotypical stuff was a laughing matter.  For example my friend would say that because I’m a kikuyu I love money or because someone else was from the western region of the country they loved food.  So hilarious,  infact it was the basis of all our jokes.  It still is.  But then,  I’m in university and it isn’t laughable anymore.

You realize that the jokes you so crudely laughed at is actually the basis of people’s thinking in the real world. You suddenly become a shell of a person whose community is the only thing that matters.  Don’t get me wrong I love my community and my Identity but that doesn’t mean I necessarily behave in a certain way.

 A few days ago someone posted in my class’s watsapp group- I quote-‘Your name betrays you’. I was lost for words and I’ve thought about it a lot.  It is really interesting (not) to see how little education has changed one’s thinking.  You would think that spending more than 10 years in school people will learn the damage of racism and tribalism. You quickly learn though that this isn’t the case and it is so annoying. 

Whenever you introduce yourself people are like”Winnie who? ” , “Wewe ni m… (What are you…)”. I’m human that’s what.  That’s the label I need to have.  That’s the first thing you should know every time you meet someone. Because we all know we can’t be defined by the choices we never made.

I know there’s a wide range of stereotypical labels from race to gender to tribe to country but my gosh why should someone be opressed because that?