SECRET PLACE (Klod Chikumbanje)

In the heart
Lays my joy, my hurt
The battlefield
From which flows my being, my cult

An Event Called Death( Klod Chikumbanje)

After my take I will quit
And accept a body and soul split
Might be too old then
Though not enough for it

In sin at birth I was soaked
Later washed by the precious blood
For which till now I stand

On fours, I admired a sprint
On it, it is gray hair
Slowly maturing for His glory
But on threes what will come ahead?

Will meet the Prince, our brother
As He will welcome my soul to rest
So tired after life’s bruises and test

OUR STORY(Mada Klod Chikumbanje)

We followed our grannies to shrines
Kneeling to lifeless figures with a lively look
A quest to be in the book
The book of the living so we escape hell
Though each passing day never got well

From our ambitious fathers
We learnt how to spit venom
And that separation is an accepted norm
While taking drunkardness as a catalyst
In a pursuit that us the worst

Our mothers could not let us go
Without a small lesson on envy
Let alone before dressing us with enemity
A complete denial of humility
As we were made to fight their fights

Free at last now we scream
Because we found Christ to imitate
As we rest on love and trust in peace
Living decorated by joy; filled with patience
Opening a completely new chapter in our story

Mada writes his poetry in a facinating way. watch this space!