Mu-Seven-i & the Parody of African Presidents’ Names

Ladies and gentlemen, first I am unhappy with Ugandan Museveni. But I am not surprised. My message to him (if he ever reads this blog in his entire life presidency – nil probability): John Fitzgerald Kennedy, 35th president of the US said and I quote “Those who make peaceful revolution impossible, make violent revolution inevitable”.

Back to why I am writing this short piece: Isn’t seven a symbol of perfection if Hebrew numerology is anything to go by? Why then have a president call himself Mu-seven-i when he literally and shamelessly ruins his nation? He stole elections, bullied his competitor and kept him under house arrest during the just concluded ‘erections’ – yes, erections. Museveni just erected himself once again in State House. Long Live the King even if he wears his ugly cowboy wherever he goes, including the bathroom!

Why on earth would you have a president so sober, who champions freedom of speech go by the name Pombe Magufuli while elsewhere others have a president who gags the media and derails free speech go by the name Uhuru? Why?

That said, I wonder why Paul has a game at the end of his name. Perhaps that’s why he is life president of the Rwandan people because that is the game plan of Ka-game! We can only hope he will soon set off to Damascus (he should know Syria is burning and Bashar Al-Assad isn’t happy; Al-Assad is sad!). The great Syrian poet, Nizar Qabbani, now in his grave, has told me in my dreams on three occasions to write a poem about Syria; I can’t. My pen won’t stop crying. Maybe, I will talk to Tony Adams Mochama (Smitta) my senior poet to write about Syria, not forgetting Burundi.

Why would a people have a president who brings bad luck throughout his reign yet he goes by the name Goodluck? What went wrong? Was it the naming? Or the person to whom the name was given? And when you thought Buhari would hurry to protect thieves like these ones we have here do, he actually did hurry to arrest them!

Kenya’s first president did well to revise his name to sound like Kenya but we all know that he later ended up ‘revising’ a good chunk of Kenyan land title deeds in his name. May God rest his soul in his huge swathes of land. Following in his footsteps, arap Moi, just like the biblical Daniel, survived the lions (of original Ford and Ford Kenya) as he wielded power for quarter a century. By the time he was done, almost every entity – from a dog to a university and airport, was named Moi. And now, when a road in Mombasa is named after the first Kenyan to discover Eritrea it becomes an issue. Okay.

I am currently zooming Zuma’s Nkandlagate scandal as I admire the palatial home that gulped South Africa taxpayers’ money because I wish not to remember Salva’s salvo against Machar in South Sudan. Sad!

The old soul of Zimbabwe; the light at the end of the tunnel, life president, freedom fighter, selfless ruler, seven (7) academic degrees man – His Excellency Robert Mugabe does sound like Mu-garbage! You thought I was planning to say much? No!

That name Kabila owned by Joseph, for all I care, sounds as tribal as Laurent. Now, let me listen to Lingala because it is just a matter of time before these looters and life presidents face the music! Remember, the murmuring Gaddaffi. Remember too the iron-fist Mu-barak who counted his blessings thinking he was the son of a Kenyan father, sitting in White House. And yes, talking of America, one soldier in the Barrack is still worth a thousand in the Bush(es) of Iraq. I know Donald Trash, sorry, Trump, thinks differently. I do not care.

God Bless Africa, land of dictators, land of corrupt rulers, land of life presidents.

O mshanti shanti shanti.


Tinga the Son of Odinga (Flame of Freedom)

Rt. Hon. Raila Amollo Odinga is the quintessence of the reform movement in Kenya. This nine stanza poem is symbolic of the nine years he spent in detention without trial, fighting for change, for a better Kenya. We celebrate him today, Mashujaa (Heroes and Heroines) Day, 20th October 2015.

Agwambo Tinga the son of Odinga,
you are the arc of the rainbow
the fresh orange of the sun,
the umbilical code of hope!

Tinga our eye is cast to the sovereign sky,
we are awaiting the patterning of the stars
our hope for people’s power shall never die,
‘cause we’re emboldened by revolutionary scars!

Amollo Tinga the son of Odinga,
you are the anthem of the people
the movement of a revolution,
massive democracy in motion!

Tinga your history is the flame of freedom burning,
them tried but never imprisoned the struggle
the intrepid lion grew up roaring in the jungle,
your liberation song was for all tribes of a nation crying!

Agwambo Tinga the son of Odinga,
you are the living legend of true patriotism
the selfless soldier of justice,
our shield and defender!

Tinga you’re the wheels of the hurricane,
lift our great land to fly like a free plane
that we may wipe away clouds of negative ethnicity,
felled upon our land like long rains of animosity!

Amollo Tinga the son of Odinga,
you are the anthem of the people
the movement of a revolution,
colossal democracy in motion!

Tinga they took away your tears with a gas,
them tortured democracy in their chambers
for your conviction they convicted you without trial,
never could they detain the people’s arsenal!

Agwambo Tinga the son of Odinga,
you are the arc of the rainbow
the fresh orange of the sun,
the umbilical code of hope!