Joshua Omenga

Even below the sceptic’s expectations

Is this unravelling of subtile imperialism

They came in a grave procession,

The caste of learned serfs

Marching to the West’s dictates:

Hoist still your yokes of acculturation

As you tread the path whose pioneers

Have taken flight
Talk of nobility

That cannot hold its head!

Vain, scurrilous renegades

Your progeny will yet question

This dereliction of your father’s path

For this mimicry of another’s custom

Then shall you know

How you have wronged your coevals.


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