Burning Lens: Father and son crossing a bridge over River Migori

A father encouraging his son as they cross a bridge over Migori river. Manuel Odeny/The Burning Splint

A father encourage his son as they cross a foot bridge over Migori River in Migori County. Manuel Odeny/The Burning Splint

Folklore Poem: When dad was shaving me (Translated from dholuo)

When dad was shaving me,

I bowed my head down-down,

I saw something dangling,

Something like a cut worm,

It’s sweet at dawn when it grinds,

The thing plaits matuta,

The thing is red like ombulo’s seed.

Original version:

Kane baba liela,

Akulo wiya piny-piny,

Aneno gi maliero,

Machalo mana ofunyu,

Mit ko gwen ko rego

Gino suko matuta

Gino kwar ko ombulu

*matuta- cornrow hair style

Ombulu- a red hot African seed from wild legume  

© 2011 Manuel Odeny

Folklore Poem: My Husband, My Cunt (Translated from dholuo)

let me buy myself meat,

the meat I will eat with my husband,

my husband who fucks my cunt,

my cunt which gives birth to my kid,

my kid who suckles my breast,

my breasts which are ‘bra-ed’ by bra!

Original dholuo version:

anyiewna ring’o,

mondo acham gi chuora,

chuora machuona ng’onya,

ng’onya manyuolo go nyathi,

nyathi madhodhona thunda

thunda majuko go ojuku!

(We sung the song repeatedly as children and not even once did we think kids come from supermarket J)

©2011 Manuel Odeny

Poem: My Father’s Son by Manuel Odeny

(Dedicated to childhood memories of growing up in Mombasa and Alfred Ayungu Odeny, My father and model of what I should be to my future wife and children)

Once

when I was still a baby boy

obsessed, thrilled with dark night sky

father said, shut your eyes tightly

then sailed I into dark night sky

dreaming of my arms

dipping in deep, dark-blue velvety

palpating golden sheen of the golden full moon

snatching twinkling stars.

But

i fell like lead

just before hard ground

to my father’s arms- veinated, calloused

his chirped nails safely grabbed

then

i opened my eyes

stretching my empty arms, pink nails

for an earnest glimpse of

a dip of deep, dark-blue velvety

golden sheen of the golden full moon

snatched twinkling stars.

and I felt sad.

Then-

father buried his head on my nape

his grizzly beard tickling my face

making little ‘blurp’ ‘blurp’ sounds

my shrill laughter

accosting his deep throaty laughter

echoing my disappointment into dark night sky

before sailing me into dark night sky

back to his rough-gentle arms

again

again

and again

to dip in deep, dark-blue velvety

palpate golden sheen of the golden full moon

snatching twinkling stars.

“Drink all Ma’s omena* soup

to be taller, reach the dark night sky”

father said, following my gaze

into the dark night sky

static radio bleating reggae

golden full moon bathing us in golden sheen

just me and my father

sleeping in his rough-gentle arms

dreaming of my arms

dipping in deep, dark-blue velvety

palpating golden sheen of the golden full moon

snatching twinkling stars…..

*Omena, from Dholuo. A delicious small fresh water fish found in Lake Victoria.

2^nd July 2011