The Song Of Elnino-Pee Poem by DEDAN ONYANGO

The beautiful western sun
Is cruising to the west
Tinting the already blue-dark horizon
With beautiful rays,
Home it goes to the west,
Bye bye it waves to humanity
And soon a calamity will befall the land
As the calm evening sky puts on the dark make-up
And like Mt. Kenya,
Pregnant clouds manourve across.

Tap!
Tap!
Tap! Heavy droplets begins to pelt the soil
Tap! Tap! Tap!
The pace increases
As the droplets darts with excitement.

“Pik uru gwen eot, kodhni duong! ”
A chorus begins to form on the newly laid second -hand iron sheets- pat! Pat!
Tap! Pata!
Tap!
The rhythm escalates as I guide the hens back into their mansion.
The fading rays of the sun are soon overwhelmed by the
Enthusiastic clouds,
Shamelessly it surrenders to the goddess of koth, the rain.
Bringing a stop to its reign.

Less sing the chorus
The expectant clouds roars
As thunderstorm joins the confusion
Creating another fusion.
The dark sky now trembles vehemently
Bringing a standstill to human activities
Sad news to the goddess of harvest.

The rhythm changes
As stones begins to fall,
Stones white in hue
Continues to strangle the overwhelmed earth.
We call it PEE!
Like a machine gun
The pee spreads like fire,
Even, Lucy the dog is not spared in this pandemonium.

Ta-pa, pa-ta-ta-pa!
The white crystals continue to converge in terror
It’s long for this village to witness such a beating
As if to emphasize its actions the hot tempered
Sky erupts,
“Jamriambo koth biro goi, koth ochopo.
Jamriambo koth biro goi, koth ochopo”
He who lies the rain will rain on you, now the rain is here.

As it rains
Yamo, the wind also grabs a chance
The god of the wind muscles up his mouth to blow
And,
Puuu! It blows across,
Puu!
Trees sway,
Puu! A Jacaranda is slain
An electric pole becomes excited
And forgets its mandate
Dawn
Dawn it goes
And the whole village is now engulfed in darkness
As the blackout blackmails the night
We, the villagers search for our Nyangiles
To light up our muddy structures
Yawa Koth! My mother curses.

The houses begins to leak,
As the running water begins to speak.
Wasunge, the whites once said, “It rained cats and dogs”
Adier, this I say;
It rained elephants and giraffes.

As I prepare to recite this chorus
I hid myself in my porous simba
Once new but now ancient
I cuddle myself and whispers to our ancestors,
As polo- the sky,
Continues to vomit its children
Bringing an end to the long dry spell.
The droplets minimize
As we, the victims maximize,
But silently we are grateful
For a favour done.

Soon the rain ceases
But polo still celebrates in its horrendous
Voice,
As it catwalks across mockingly;
“Jamriambo koth biro goi, koth ochopo
Jamriambo koth biro goi, koth osechok”.
He who tells lies you will be rained on
He who tells lies you will be rained on, now the rain has stopped.