By Jeff Kenyatta
I speak for those born in the cradle of sorrow and reared in the lap of misfortune.
I speak for those who eat a dry sponge moisted with tears. Those who plant with toil and labour, sow in tears, misery and distress.
I draw my lineage from peasants, from potters and weavers and farmers. I have the blood of plumbers, those who work in the fields, under the sun.
I speak not for them born with a silver spoon, but for those born with NO spoon.
I speak for them that are plagued by the fleas of torment. The Nobodies, the noOnes, dying through life, screwed every way.
I speak for those who don’t speak languages, but dialects. Who don’t have religions, but superstitions. Who don’t create art, but handicrafts. Who don’t have culture, but folklore. Who don’t have names, but numbers. Who are regarded not as human being, but human resource.
I speak for those who pick crumbs even as they sit at kingly feasts. Those wounded by day and hounded by night. Those who have not dreams of hope, but nightmares of despair. Those crippled at night moons and plagued in day noons.
I speak for those, on whose backs, carry mortars and stones to build walls and towers and skyscrappers.
I speak for those who build palaces and mansions yet dwell in huts and caves.
I speak for those who fill bins and graneries while they eat crumbs.
I speak for those who weave silk and wool and yet cloth themselves in tatters and rags.
I speak for the Nation’s poor. Not for the rich giants, but for the poor pigmies. Those driven in fetters like beasts of prey. Those muted by ignorance and rendered blind by tribalism.
This is my call in the stillness of a solemn night. Before the hosts of heaven and creatures of earth.
All ye, heavy-ladden shoulders, do not despair in your afflictions. If we got to surrender, let us surrender to the will of Providence. We must never give up!
All ye timid souls and tired feet, the walk is long, the climb is steep, but we must never give up! From thorns of shame, we can be crowned thrones of glory.
Poor folks, We are free men in a free world. Neither persecution nor exile will dim our vision, neither death nor torture can blunt our hopes. We must never give up!
Let sunrise not find us where sunset left us. We must never give up!
Never give up! Lets live to fight another day. There are bounds of possibilities.