Every
morning when I step outside my house, all I see is the tears shed by innocent
Kenyans. When I set foot to the office, my feet come face to face with the
tears shed by the precious Kenyans toiling for their daily bread. Whenever I
log into my social media accounts, the updates I see are about the tears shed
by Kenyans in other regions far from where I am.
Make no mistake, majority of Kenyans are crying every morning, every day, every night, every hour, week, month, year and have been crying for years.
The cries are laced with pain, anger,
hopelessness, optimism. It’s a mixture of emotions and feelings that cannot be
explained in prose.
For four
successive fighting years, Kenyans have bore the brunt of our politicians’
never ending tussles that have nothing in return for the pain we endure. And
even before the worst of all settles, before the wounds can heal, before new
grass can sprout on the recent graves, before the tears can dry, another tussle
is already on course long even before the fighting ring is declared suitable
for the fight.
However,
Kenyans are also to blame for the pain meted unto them, the suffering they plunged
into, the misery they ever swim in, the hopelessness that always engulfs their
living, the abuse they are always subjected to, the ridicule ....
Article by Obed Muindi
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