We never trusted the law courts,
And so we took our machetes and
slit our neighbour’s throats,
We became the judge,
And so we burnt them alive in
Church,
As the yellow flame engulfed
their bodies,
Their agonizing cries became, to
our ears, sweet melodies,
Now their roasted flesh is
dripping of fats,
Let’s wash our hands and put
aside our hats,
Let’s eat them.
We forgot about what we had built
together for so many seasons,
Instead, we attacked our
neighbours with crude weapons,
We pulled them out of moving
vehicles and divided them using tribal mark,
After be-heading them, we watched
and danced as their body-less heads rolled on the hot tarmac,
We set their head-less bodies on
fire,
And the mounds of their vaginas
quenched our sexual desire,
Now the aroma of roasted meat has
filled the air,
Let everyone pull a chair,
Let’s gather for a meal of
“Nyama-choma,”
Let’s eat them.
Everyone is invited,
And the protocol should be
respected,
Our political leaders should have
the first taste,
And not a single limb should go
to waste,
The hairs can make a good flying
whisk for our elders,
The teeth can make necklaces and
bangles to support our thriving fashion industry,
We can use the intestines to make
Mutura while the bowel content can be
mixed with urine to make Ojuri,
As for the roasted stake,
We can make do with a smoking hot
white Ugali,
And an accompaniment of enough Kachumbari,
Instead of a prayer, we can sing
the national anthem,
Before we eat them.
(photo/www.ngv.vic.gov.au)

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