LEFT HAND

He told me—

A stout, ancient-looking simpleton,
Who thought himself a man.
I disagreed.

In his time of vague austerities,
He uttered the most foolish things,
Spewing undiscerned trinkets,
Manufacturing hate in my poison sacs.

"Something wobbly about the left hand," he said,
"Its sole aim—to make symmetrical,
Like a drive in the misty wind."

In the same way, he claimed,
A woman’s insufficiency is felt, 
Owing to her absence during the great admonition:
"Do not touch the tree in the middle."

As a leader.
As a daughter.
As a chief.

"Ish, ish..."—a sense of discontent runs sharp
When a woman leads.

So I detested the stout fellow, 
Not for his clout,
But for the thin air feeding his thoughts,
Drifting in little doses.

"Shut it, stout fellow, or I will throw up."
Oops.
I just did.

Dear Reader, 

March has been generous in sending me Muses. She may still have a Muse or two, or maybe nothing more. I can never tell. This,

however, is to all girls (Women) who have had to tolerate negative or foolish remarks from their male counterparts just because they are male. It's time to throw up! 

# Respect yourself and walk away. 

Sr. Esther Koros OSF

 

FOUR CAMPUS WAVES

 

I spoke of metamorphosis once before,
A change from within, a path to restore.
But now I see a different tide,
Sweeping through the halls with pride.

Penelope, once my student bright,
Now fills my heart with silent fright.
A freshman lost in love’s embrace,
Trapped by passion’s fleeting grace.

She swore she’d die if left alone,
Her heart was his, her soul was owned.
Yet love soon twisted, turned, and swayed,
And with time, the dream decayed.

A ringless vow, a whispered plea,
A secret pact none came to see.
Motherhood knocked, she turned away,
And sent the shadowed guest astray.

With her third wave, she shed her past,
A reckless soul, unbound, unmasked.
Lavish men with wealth untold,
Draped in diamonds, drowned in gold.

Big cars, big dreams, a lavish spree,
The world her stage, her spirit free.
Books and studies cast aside,
For fleeting joy and sinful pride.

Then time raced forth with no delay,
The final wave was on its way.
Desperate hands sought grades once more,
While morals crumbled to the floor.

A husband, job—she wished them near,
Yet echoes whispered in her ear.
The past stood firm, it left a trace,
Reflected in her weary face.

And when the four waves came to rest,
My brother chose, she whom he thought best.

And do I say—oh, can it be?
A retired harlot, bound to thee?

Dear Reader, 

It is still March, and I continue to celebrate women. Today, I speak to young women who have fallen into the trap of fast life in Kenyan Campuses. It is paramount to maintain your values and standards. You must never succumb to the pressure of materialism.

Enjoy your read.

#Sr. Esther Koros OSF

Uncaged

Pictures taken from the internet

Tame my soul, you tried—

Tame my spirit too,

Tame me to your small cage,

But my spirit flies free.

 

Tame me, you tried—

Tame the books, tame the rooms,

Tame me, you will try again.

The world was worried I might suffocate it with glee.

 

Eve was named and burdened with sin.

Jocasta had a name yet was bound to fate.

And Aristotle—ah, his words endure,

But she, silent, erased—

Yet how did they procreate?

 

They erased my name,

Pushed me to the margins of the Holy Book.

But behold Mary Magdalene—

Two millennia, yet still she speaks her truth.

 

They erased my name,

So, I lived behind a pseudonym—

Yet behold T.S. Eliot, behold Karen Blixen.

And then there is me,

Subdued in deceit,

Taught to despise my own reflection,

To make my own nemesis.

 

Fellow woman,

You are strong, you are witty, you are formidable.

Choose today—

To lift, not break, to stand, not silence.

 

See how the world mocks women still,

How Kawira was cast aside,

How Kihika must fight for her Spade.

Dear woman,

Stand for your sister today.

Dear Reader, 

I continue to savour the formidable spirit of every woman this month of March. Always remember, you are strong, you are witty and you have all it takes to take your place in the world. 

Recently, Kawira Mwangaza was impeached, Susan Kihika is on the verge of the same. Do you think these are justified or are they gender driven? Do you believe their male counterparts are genuinely doing better? 

Leave a comment here...

Sr. Esther Koros OSF

 

BEAST OF BURDEN, YOU!

I call her the beast of burden, there is a hue of hope!

A conniving of nature, to torture, no stop.

Redundant as history, a familiar story

One that restrains them, from soaring up the storey.

Hey beast of burden, a hue of hope awaits!

Coz I tell you what?

The future is female.

 

Think of the odds you have beaten…

The years of voicelessness when you wouldn’t vote,

The years of breathlessness when you got beaten into submission

The years of uncouthness, when your sexuality was mutilated.

The years of illiteracy, when you earned your accolades in the kitchen.

The years of homelessness when land belonged to men.

Hey woman, aren't you tough!

Hey, Damsel, The twilight is here

A Cheerful dawn

To haunt, to hold, to hone!

Because the future is female!

.

 

Don’t tire just yet, Damsel!

You still got some repulsiveness to beat!

Beat the titles; be the pilot not a female pilot

Be the rapper, not a female rapper

Be the doctor, not a female doctor.

Be the social capital, not the enemy of each other.

 

You beast of burden,

When the menfolk got colonized,

The womenfolk got colonized twice!

For being female, for being black!

And you said;

 

I might be a woman, I might be black,

I might be poor, but hey, I am here!

Making the best beast of burden.

Making the future female.

 

Let’s give a round of applause to the woman that you are!

Because the future is female!

Nay, the present is female!  

 Cheers Woman! 

By Sr. Esther Jeruto Koros OSF

 

 

 

 

 

 

HAVE YOU SEEN HIM WHOM MY HEART LOVES?

Have you seen the one whom my heart loves? Song 3:3

Resonated by the Mary of Magdala at the wake of Resurrection.

Recall the devastation, the frustration, the wonderment?

Of a woman in love and loss all at once, the confusion?

He soon passed away and was no more; though I looked for him, he could not be found. Psalm 37:36

Here goes the tone of pain.

 

Designate was the voice that called, Mary! John 20:16

Intimate and consummate was the trill, so merry!

The voice pitched in hope, cleared the guise.

Does it happen that the deceased are rekindled?

She sought for a corpse to accord a decent burial,

But HE comes whole, victorious and alive!

The pain turned victory!

 

Feminine audacity, she’s the first herald.

Announcing the Good news! “He’s risen!”

The sinner forgiven much, loves much. Luke 7:47

Many a person will promise love.

But when a woman loves, she loves to bits.

Crowned apostle, sweet little pebble.

Found Him whom her heart loved.

And I do too today.

Have you?

 

@ By Sr. Esther Koros OSF

Happy Easter 2024

LAME AS ME

My Lord gazes profoundly, a hue of tenderness,          

Usually our glances penetrate each other, I deeply gulp. 

But this day, shame dwarfs my uncanniness,

So that I come reluctant as a dirge

I come anyways Lord, lame as me. 

I might be filthy, swarmed in grit, 

I might be distraught, burdened with regret,

I might be violent, me judging me. 

For not breaking the bad, but could I ?

I come anyways Lord, lame as me. 

Didn't you promise, where sin increases,

Your grace does too, your highness? Rm 5:20

You have the means to unlock these chains,

And free the sinner, burdened by pain. 

 So I come anyways Lord, lame as me. 

For to whom else shall I go?

You have the message of eternal life. Jn 6:68 

Sr. Esther Koros OSF

0726179789 

 

MUSING ON YOU

 

Dear Muse

Your telepathic self has bewitched my mojo, again!

So that calories don’t burn around efforts about you.

So, songs echo differently cajoled by thoughts of you.

So, the wind blows with a swagger about you.

So that your voice echoes long after a call.

Squeeze me through your days.

Lull me through you nights.

Charm me through your laughter.

Better still,

Visit my nest sometimes.

Every time,

All the time.

Sr. Esther Jeruto Koros OSF 

Give yourself a pat on the back sometimes.