Jungle-Jacket

I always dreamt of becoming a lawyer…
A very successful woman in terms of a good job, great papers,
Driving big cars,
Dating big names,
Living in big houses,
And a successful… Writer
Before life unfolded
Its meaness and worst face
To me.
I wasn’t worried about the future…
My mother kept telling me how
Smart l was (am)
And how the world
Favored people such as me…
She had a salon somewhere in Nairobi University Chiromo campus hostels
Where alot of young students…
Medicine practising students
Called home after
Long science classes…
She would make sure
I interact with a couple of them…
They loved my little brain at the time…
Especially how
I fused some good spoken English
With some deep Kawangware Sheng…
How l explained facts and my thinking.
So when asked
“So what do you wanna be when you grow up?”
I would smile…
Confidently say,
“ A Lawyer, A Model and A Writer ”
And everyone agreed,
I was on the right or should l (now) Say WRITE,,, Track
But somewhere between the lines
Of lonelyness, depression and bankruptcy
The Dream Became as So…
A dream
A mare dream

So years are gone now
My mother said,
( the other day in a joke…)
“Wewe Madam Lawyer… Si unitumie pesa ya Mothers day?!”
Which l did,
Then after,
Sat in my crib
Recalling all those times
I thought of the future
How l fought to get the latest Elle magazine…
In bids to update my understanding of lawyers dress codes
And poses by models
Also
Reading the writings on the side
To improve my future writing skills…
Recalling how l slept for few hours
Reading about the worlds history
In order to understand the past present and future of the World Status
How l trained to speak before my mirror in courtrooms
This was supposed to be my heaven…
Then look at me now
Putting on combat side pockets
Jungle green jackets and Berets
With 3/4s of my head shaven
My fingers shinning some gold ring on each of them
In some boots
Before me is a microphone…
Am here before millions of eyes
To speak about justice
And about how “Rober…”
Was not suppose to die
How he did not want to steal
How big a sacrifice he became…

Look at how l condemn societies
In my sheng’
Look at how intellectuals are keenly listening
Look at how they follow up the story
Look at how lawyers are snaping to my punch lines
Look at how this male poets hate to love my writing
Look at how mothers who’ve lost sons in the name of mob justice look at me as their emotional saviour…
As their defender
As the Lawyer they could never afford…
Wait,
Did l say lawyer?
Is it that l became a lawyer in the long run
But on a different angle and Approach?
But
I have no papers…
Am yet to complete the 8:4:4
Wait… what is the 8:4:4?
For good brains?
My father in all his arrogance and irresponsibility
Once told me
“Every one might take everything away from you
Even l might take alot from you,
But nobody, can take away your Brain
And God given ability to see things differently…”
So this morning l texted my mother
Using my private number
In the text l said…
“ I hope you got the ‘Pesa Ya Mothers Day’ cheque…
I have been defending voiceless people in this city
After l became a lawyer that writes about justice…
Its what l am doing in Nairobi…
My regards to Cedric
Tell him his fee is paid…

Lawyer Qui
Cheers”

Qui Qarre

Remember to purchase your ticket
To “tears of the pen”
Happening on 1st July 2017
Clarion Hotel Nairobi

Details. Jungle fatigue jacket.

Photo: @maxnordanaker
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