The lonely woman facing Jeevanjee Gardens

Facing Jeevanjee Gardens

Philo Ikonya©

She walked with twists,
the rowdy crowd followed,
Agitated.

Getsemane at home

Nyambura, Atieno,
Her hair in tufts.
Subra and Amina,
their heads unveiled,
She could have been any,
at night.
It is daytime.

Now she falls,
and now she bleeds.
The camera takes it all in,
It is seven o’clock,
The way of the cross on your screen.

The crowd urges her walk on.
She falls and bends and they yoke her on,
Her skirt is ripped,
She is red lipped,
With blood.

The cock has crowed six times.
Her white blouse bloody too.
The male cameraman,
 teases every detail.

She squirms and cries,
And falls again.
And not enough till the third.
Like the Christ,
She heaves her soul,
A poor worm.

Walks from River Road to Moi Avenue,
Man police waits at Central Gate,
And smiles at her sweat of blood,
Surely it drenches her pants too.
Her male prostitute turned client,
walks proudly beside her,
men cry not, you see,
and he is fast to accuse.
She stole even my mobile phone.

She stole! My…
Between teeth with blood,
She says,
He did not pay his fee.
Pontius Pilate laughs.

She wanted her money,
She was not being phoney.
Pilate laughs like the reporter,
The police all laugh with him.
The woman cries her agony,
Facing Jeevanjee gardens.

I think of her children,
Who might on TV see mother,
But when the newscaster is back,
He is laughing and laughing,
And has to straighten up;
His laughter it slithers,
And he no longer man,
How to be a man?

Turn off the TV, turn on the radio.
The other man in the studio,
He is just doing his work,
He is a man casting news,
Like you cast a net to see what’s there.

Weather without feelings you face.
The Broadest Broadcast Channel interview,
A reporter as famous as the Nile,
They know him North to South,
He to a doctor and asks his worst case,
In this haven for abused women.

The doctor says it is so base,
She is tiny and defiled.
A baby’s digestive system,
is all jumbled up,
Private parts no more,
muddled by a big pestle.

”Why do men do these things?”
Asks the reporter.
and, and: brace yourself like a barrel.
Fortify yourself.
Big laughter before the diagnosis.
Two seconds of laughter,
that for me is the disease.
In a second it reversed the gains,
of a doctor stitching a tender baby girl.
Is this to be a man, honestly, to be a man!?