The second wave is reportedly worse
And as the families come dragging into the camp
Faces weary and frozen in disbelief
It remains clear
That the elements remain undefeated.
Each burdened by what they could save from the floods
Their footsteps heavily dragging
With shoes drenched in mud
The kids hungry, the parents angry
So we welcomed them into the refuge
Served them the remaining breakfast porridge
Showed them where to place their possessions
And lent them our mats
For a little sleep is necessary in these times.
To the East of here,
Lies the great Ibera village
That provided fertile grounds
To our great community.
Our eternal sense of pride
Is now being held hostage
By the water of the great Nalubaale.
Here we have now been for weeks
Begrudgingly waiting it out
While our homes’ walls collapse in on themselves,
Sinking right before our eyes
As the lake deities congregate in our deserted houses.
Our days are now spent
Making sense of this bad situation
Receiving those still trickling in
From the affected regions
Hosting politicians with their empty promises
And fielding questions from the media.
The children are happily oblivious to our predicament
Engaged in a fierce battle of hide-and-seek
Clad in the brightest, warmest sweaters
While their mums prepare an evening meal.
If you are to look keenly
In the company of the coming darkness
You will find the men
Toiling to dredge up a trench
To prevent our new community
From falling to the same fate as before.
For the first time
In a very long time
The night has quickly come upon us
To put an end to this miserable day.
The mosquitoes are excitedly buzzing in our ears
Crickets chirping from someplace near.
The room is engulfed in a powerful silence
Covered in a thick smell of damp
Heavily punctuated by the growls of hunger
Coming from the little bellies half asleep in our laps.
We are all hurdled up in front of the fire
Attempting to keep warm
As we gather the courage to turn in for the night
On our mkekas laid out
To cushion us, even if meekly
From the cold concrete floors.
From the uncomfortable silence
Erupts a silent, piercing sob
Followed by a haunting worship song.
One by one, we join in the dirge
As we raise our voice to Nyasaye
Together – pleading and begging
To let it be his will
That it may pass from us
This cup of suffering
As we impatiently count down the days
Until we know our next course of action.
Glossary
Nalubaale – Lake Victoria
Weetek – Adamant, Stubborn
Ibera – beautiful
Mkeka – mat