THE SENTENCE

  SENTENCE.

Under the hot glaring sun,

We stood at one end bathed,

Before us sat a multitude of raging citizens,

The jury was compiling the sentence,

Of the allegations levied against us,

Allegations that we were stage acting.

When the state had called to end the heinous deed,

Matt, I and Co. had tried to bring it back to earn a penny.

The sky was clear!

Waiting for our weary fate to be decided.

Time was tick toking,

The impediment of our imminent judgment was killing,

Pushing to the edges,

The roar of the unruly crowd was up surging,

My heart was racing so as my ‘partners in crime’

The head of the Jury stood and summoned the crowd,

“Today we witness the death of the accused before us,

For breaking the laws of the land!”

We were pushed over to the killer machine the undertaker stood still,

I watched my friends taken down as I waited for mine,

Hardly had I been mounted on the killer machine,

Than it broke down and I hang over.

Luckily I lived to tell of my death sentence.

That never was!

 Weaver.

 

+NINETEEN YEARS LATER+

NINETEEN YEARS LATER.

 

 

 

     “How could you do this doctor? This is so unprofessional!” Well when I first heard this story from the horse’s mouth, I felt the urge to tell it or rather share it. It didn’t matter the form of writing, with the message well cast. I would be content. Perhaps I should start from the top, in my own words.

    17^th August, another busy day for busy Dr. K. Odoyo his name as I was told. His area of expertise bringing the 9 months old to planet earth. “The subject has to undergo a c-sectioning [hope this is the right term]. A natural delivery is dangerous for the baby.” Dr. K. Odoyo remarked. “Where is the lady’s next of kin? The baby’s father for that matter.” He quickly asked from the reception desk but no answer came forth.

     We know the danger that comes a delayed labor period or puerperal- Obstetric Fistula. Time was the enemy Dr. K. Odoyo had to face head on if he wanted to save the young mother from fistula. “Where is the baby’s father? He needs to sign here before we go into the C-room?”
      
     All that while, Baba baby, let’s call him that was in the office. He was the chairman of the co-operative and being an August he had to deal with many clients who wanted their cheques. He tried as much to rush through the list so that he would be in Hospital in time to welcome the baby. Meters away from hospital, his cellphone buzzed. Some cheques had bounced and he was needed back he had to choose work over the one important sign!

    “Dr. K. Odoyo, you are breaking protocol!” one nurse cried.

    “The lives of this lady and the unborn baby are in my hands so I will do whatever I feel is good for them. Choose to ride along nurse.” Dr. K. Odoyo said.

     Finally, Baba baby was free and in the shortest time he was in hospital. Dr. K. Odoyo had to spill the beans- he told him that he had proceeded with the operation without his approval.

     “How could you do this? What have you done Dr. K. Odoyo?” He screamed.

     “I have the power as a doctor and I did what was necessary. She needed it as soon.” They argued as each tried to express their emotions.

   “Why don’t you thank God the baby got here safely.” One nurse pleaded with Baa baby.

    Nineteen years later, I’m here born from an operation that was never approved in the first place. Funny right? Sometimes I meet the one person that gave me the first ride on planet earth the sentimental incidents that make me want to wake up in the night to write. Nineteen years later my loyal pen and me struggle to bring to life whatever situation we go through and be success oriented.

     And I say. Thanks to Daddy in Heaven.

                                                                         Weaver.

+WORDBRANCH+

WORD BRANCH.

 

 

        The one thing that mused me was their slogan or say tag line ‘Everyone has a story to tell’ that is Word branch publishing firm. It’s a family business that was birthed to give home to new authors that are pushed away from other firms.

      Theirs is an exciting endeavor, they treat your manuscript like their own baby. They give it readers, editors, illustrators then when it’s ripe they pipe it to the best and well known distributors. The illustrators work well trust me. Right from the cover page you have a breath-taking book that your readers won’t miss to flip the next page. Submissions are made in January and June so you have enough time to work on it.

Another thing is that they offer you a free author course once you are accepted and you don’t pay for the courses till your book is published, no you agree on a percentage of the royalties you will earn. How exciting for a fiction or a non-fiction wannabe written with a manuscript that is a double spaced with a 13 font size in a Microsoft word document.

Try it and you could be the lucky Ndiritu Wahome of the sad artiste and other fairy tales who will be launching his book on a Storymoja hay platform in Sept.

IM JUST A TRAIN-WRECK

IM JUST A TRAIN-WRECK.

 

 

The train moves faster than I thought,

I look up to the rest of them all,

Sited in twos smiles written in their faces,

There gazes and moving lips are tormenting,

I look up to the blue sky through the window,

Doves and crows flying in twos,

Peaches pat their feathers by the tree twigs.

The seat beside me is empty and the extra train ticket reads Jane Doe.

You swore you would come,

You told me I was written in your soul,

You said our names were written in the stars.

Suddenly the train comes to a halt,

The voice over announces,

“We’ve come to the end of the journey,”

While did I go to this journey alone?

The rest alight happy holding hands,

No, I will not alight take me wherever.

Cause I’m just a train-wreck.

A lonely train-wreck.

                                                   -Weaver