Walking for Nothing

The hunger has moved past the belly now.
It sits in the hands that have nothing to touch,
and in the eyes that track the sun
across a sky that offers no shade and no work.
I’ve walked the soles of my shoes thin
on roads that lead back to the same closed door.

She stands in the kitchen,
her judgment a cold draft under the door.
She sees the way I sit and calls it a choice,
thinking this weight is a slow rot of the spirit,
a laziness that grew where the ambition died.
She cannot see the mountain I am carrying
just to walk from the bed to the gate.

The plate stays clean because the pocket is dry,
and the throat is too tight for swallowing anyway.
It’s a heavy thing, to be a man of use
in a season that has no use for him.
The tools in the yard are losing their shine,
turning the color of dried blood in the rain,
waiting for a hand that isn’t shaking.

I am not sleeping when I close my eyes.
I am only trying to hold the world up,
bracing my back against a falling ceiling
that she thinks is just the empty air.
It is hard to plant a future
when you are buried in the present,
waiting for a wind that doesn’t blow against you.

@doddyokelo

Let Me In

Your mind is a cathedral of locked doors,
where I walk the perimeter, tracing the cold stone,
listening for the silver resonance of a breath that sounds like my name.
I am an expert in the art of the unspoken,
gathering the crumbs of your glances like a hungry bird,
content to wait in the shadow of your mystery
until the daylight finally learns how to break through.

Expose the map of your pulse, the hidden place
where your armor thins and the genuine heart beats.
I do not ask for a tour, I ask for the keys to the foundation,
to be the protagonist in the story you tell yourself at midnight.
Let me inhabit the space of your firsts,
as the very oxygen that fills your lungs
before the world taught you how to hesitate.

I can feel your love like a subterranean river,
heavy and gold, moving where the marrow dreams of light.
But I am drowning in the shallows of your caution,
wondering if you will ever let that river break the banks.
I love you with the violence of a sun that never sets,
I am waiting to see if you will finally surrender to the same
beautiful, terrifying gravity that holds me to you.

@doddyokelo

AND YET, WE VOTE

WHO PROTECTS THE PEOPLE FROM THE POLICE ?


You may write us off,
dismiss us ,
ignore us in Parliament halls padded with stolen wealth,
but still, we see

We are the country beneath your motorcades,
the hands that build and break,
the voices cracking in the dust
because hope costs too much now.

And yet,
we vote.

We vote for thieves in clean suits

We vote for wolves draped in our flags,

Enough.

We are tired.
Tired of job descriptions reading “Must be connected.”
Tired of degrees gathering dust
while our dreams starve in silence.

We are tired of joblessness turned into weaponry,
young men hired cheap to kill our own voices,
paid to break bones they’ve never healed in their own lives.

Tired of watching peaceful protesters
shot dead,
while those who loot in daylight
are guarded like royalty.

Tired of asking:
“Who protects the people from the police?”

Tired of staged outrage,
press conferences filled with air,
and politicians who only remember their roots
when it’s time to lie again.

You fight for positions, not for people.
You dine with the devil,
then kneel in churches too small for your sins.

You debate your egos on live TV
as our people dig trenches
not for roads,
but for graves.

You die to be seen.
But we die because we’re ignored.

Kenya is choking.
On debt.
On lies.
On the stink of promises unkept.

We are not asking.
We are telling.

This time, we vote with memory.
With pain.
With names.
With tears that learned how to speak.

This time,
you will not scare us with teargas.
You will not buy us with t-shirts.
You will not distract us with empty tribal drums.

We will remember who was silent when we bled.
We will remember who smiled while we starved.
We will remember who disappeared our brothers
and called us TREASONOUS CRIMINALS.

We are not the children you once fooled.
We have grown teeth.
We have grown rage.
And we are coming.

So let the ballot tremble.
Let your seats shake.
Let the ground beneath your stolen homes shift.

Because next time,
we are not just voting.

We are reclaiming.

And if you still don’t listen,
then hear this:

We are not afraid.
We are not asleep.
We are not yours.
Not anymore.

@Okelododdychitchats


#RUTOMUSTGO #ENDPOLICEBRUTALITY #RAGEANDCOURAGE
#JUSTICEFORELIJOSHUA

To You, Tonight

You say you don’t read much.
But somehow, you always read me.
And maybe, without knowing,
You taught me how to bleed through the pen,
To shape silence into syllables,
To hold space for feeling,
Even when the world is loud.

So tonight,
As night settles in a robe of velvet quiet,
I write not to ask, nor to explain,
But to bless you, softly.

When the night folds her arms around the sky,
And the stars murmur lullabies in silver tongues,
May your burdens loosen,
May your spirit stretch.

For even the moon, full in her glow,
Knows the ache of holding light too long.

Rest, love.
Lay down the weight of unspoken things.
Let dreams drift in like gentle winds
Through the windows of your mind.

Don’t dwell,
Not on what didn’t grow,
Not on what wasn’t said.

Just sleep.
And let this be the lull in the poem of your life,
The stanza where you exhale.

Goodnight, beloved.
Goodnight.

@okelododdychitchats

SILENCE IS THE DEATH OF US

Dear Corporate,

I know you like your linen white.
White as milk.
With no stains, no creases,
And no voices too loud or opinions too strong.
You want clean reputations,
Clean photos, clean silence.

You like me better
When I just show up, smile, hit targets,
Say “yes sir” to everything and go home.
You like me better
When I keep the fire in my belly out of your boardroom.
When I don’t question, when I don’t care too much.

But here’s what you forget,

I was me before I became your employee.
I had a voice before I had your email signature.
I had convictions before I had a clock-in code.
And I’m not about to trade all that in
For job security and polite applause.

I love justice.
The same way you love KPIs.
I care about this country,
The same way you care about brand image.

So when you see me at a protest,
Don’t flinch.
I’m not unstable.
I’m not rebellious.
I’m just awake.

When I call out corruption,
I’m not ruining your name,
I’m protecting it.
Because if systems rot,
Your success does too.

When I tweet in anger,
It’s not because I’m angry all the time.
It’s because I still believe that things can change.
That voices matter. That silence is too heavy to carry anymore.

I’m not asking for much.

Just this,
Don’t punish me for caring.
Don’t blacklist me for believing.
Don’t put me in a corner
Because I refuse to play blind.

I want to work.
I want to grow.
But I also want to live in a country where truth doesn’t cost you your job.

Let me speak.
Let me stand.
Let me protest, cry out, and still walk into your office on Monday morning with purpose.
Because fighting for what’s right
And showing up for work
Aren’t enemies.
They’re both signs I give a DAMN.

So no,
I’m not mad.
I’m not disloyal.
I’m just patriotic.
And I won’t whisper that.

Sincerely,
Still the right person for the job. Just louder.

@okelododdychitchats

Silenceisthedeathofus #Speak #PoeticJustice #Justice #Justice4AlbertOjwang #SpeakUp #Corruption #EndCorruption

When I fall in Love



When I fall in love,
there will be no trumpet,
no choir of angels rehearsing hallelujah,
just the quiet breaking of bread
between two hands that have known hunger.

I will not ask the sun to shine,
it will.
I will not beg the wind to be still
it will not.
But you,
you will laugh like sugar spilling from a jar
and I will remember
how joy can be messy
and still be beautiful.

When I fall in love,
I will not be the half of a whole,
I will be
the whole of a whole
meeting another
who does not need
completing,
only witnessing.

There will be no ticking clock,
no red thread prophecy,
no trembling knees
(unless from laughter).
I will not call it fate.
I will call it choice.
I will choose you.
And choose you again.
Even when your smile falters,
even when your breath
carries thunder.

I will not write sonnets.
I will write grocery lists
with your name at the bottom
underlined twice.
We will argue about soup.
And make up in whispers
like old songs
that only the two of us remember.

When I fall in love,
I will not promise forever.
But I will give you every now
I can carry.
I will plant soft yeses
in the soil of every day.
I will hold space
for your shadow
and your shine.

And when I say goodbye,
(if goodbye must come)
it will be with the ache
of one who has lived
and not regretted
a single soft, unspoken
I love you.

When I fall in love,
it will not be a fairy tale.
It will be
a revolution
of two
sacred, flawed,
magnificent
souls
saying,
yes, still.

And you,
you will not be worshipped.
You will be
seen.
And that, my love,
is holy enough.

@okelododdychitchats

I will not Dim my Light


If I do all you want today,
Will your love shift?
Will your arms stretch wide,
Wide enough to hold the ghost of me?

I have danced on the edge of your wanting,
Spun circles ‘round your longings,
Bent my back, bowed my head,
Tamed the fire in my chest
To keep your comfort warm.

You ask for little things.
A smile where silence sits.
A nod when my spirit shakes its head.
You ask for more.
To silence my no’s, to trim my edges,
To mold away the man
Who dares to stand whole.

I have walked your road,
Worn my feet down to whispers,
Lost my name in the fading call of your voice.
But tell me,
If I do all you want today,
Will I wake up tomorrow
And know the shape of my own shadow?

I have learned the lessons of yielding,
Learned to tuck my thunder away,
To let the winds of your needs
Blow me soft, blow me small,
Blow me into something easy to hold.

But what of me?
What of the man who sings her own name?
Who does not shrink,
Who does not fall silent,
Who does not twist himself
Into the shape of another’s desire?

I will not be whittled down,
I will not be swallowed whole.
Love should not ask for a life
That forgets how to live.

So I ask you,
If I stand tall, if I stay true,
If I let my wild bloom,
Will you still call my name?
Or will you fade,
A dream that could not bear
The weight of my wings?

I will not trade my fire for comfort.
I will not barter my soul for belonging.
If I must walk alone,
Let my feet find steady ground.
Let my heart beat in its own time.
Let my love be limitless and unchained.

For love should lift,
Not bind.
It should open doors,
Not lock them shut.
If I stay,
Let it be as I am,
Unshaken. Unshamed. Unafraid.

And if you must go,
Go gently.
But know this,
I will not dim my light,
Not for you.
Not for anyone.

I was born to shine.

@okelododdychitchats

I can See It

The tunnel feels never-ending
A vast expanse of darkness
Thick and suffocating
But I keep pushing forward
Searching for that distant light
That flicker of hope in the distance

My feet are weary
My heart heavy with doubt
But I press on
For I know that the light
Is my salvation
My guiding star in the abyss

I stumble over rocks
And trip on my own fears
But I pick myself up
Dust off my doubts
And keep moving forward
Towards that glimmer of hope

The wind howls around me
Whipping through my hair
Stinging my cheeks with cold
But I am undeterred
For I know that the light
Is worth every hardship

I close my eyes
And imagine the warmth
Of the sun on my face
The gentle caress of a breeze
And I am filled with renewed determination
To reach the end of this tunnel

I remember the words
Of those who have gone before me
Those who have faced their own darkness
And emerged into the light
Their stories give me strength
And remind me that I am not alone

I cling to their words
Like a lifeline in the storm
And I push through the pain
The doubt, the fear
With every step, I feel closer
To the light at the end of the tunnel

I feel it calling to me
Beckoning me forward
Promising me peace
And I know that I must keep going
No matter how hard it gets
No matter how long it takes

For I will not be defeated
By the darkness that surrounds me
I will emerge victorious
Into the glorious light
At the end of this tunnel
And I will be forever changed

So I press on
With newfound resolve
With a fire in my soul
And a song in my heart
For I know that the light
Is waiting for me
At the end of the tunnel.

@okelododdychitchats

Holy Hypocrisy

Why did I stop going to church? One of the funniest reasons I’ve heard is, “My pastor was crippled and healing cripples. Like, why not heal yourself?” It’s a dark statement, but I get where they’re coming from. Let’s be honest, are these people God’s messengers or money makers in Poverty Pulpits ?

I believe in God, but I have a million questions. My friend and colleague, Evans Asudi challenges me every time we have a discussion about religion and the existence of God, he argues that the design of the universe, nature, and everything in it must have an origin. My question is, is that origin the God of the Christian Bible, Allah of the Muslim Quran, or the supernatural forces in Buddhist texts like the Tripitaka? I’m not saying these religions worship entirely different gods. They argue as if they do, but interestingly, they all seem to agree on the same devil. Crazy, right? Anyway, I believe in God and identify as Christian, but I rarely go to church. I have my reasons !

As a kid, I always questioned my existence, and while that hasn’t changed, I now find myself questioning the origins of religion. Who created it, and what was it really meant to achieve? History shows how religion has been used to create divisions, often for political gain, and it still happens today. Different religions hold varying beliefs, and even within Christianity, denominations clash. Paul even addressed this in Corinthians, questioning why Christians were divided when they were all baptized in Christ’s name. These divisions are often exploited for political purposes, given the strong influence religion has on society and politics.

I was raised in a strict Christian background where questioning the church or its leaders was off-limits. It was considered disrespectful and even thought to bring curses. Looking back, I laugh at how much I used to fear that. But, even as a kid, I could see pastors giving in to “earthly” temptations, sins they were never held accountable for. They seemed untouchable, immune to any form of criticism. Over time, this made me start questioning things more deeply, and now it’s part of why I find it difficult to step inside just any church today.

To make sense of where we are, let’s start with the history of Christianity. It began in the 1st century after Jesus’ death as a Judaic sect with some Hellenistic influences. The Catholic Church claims to be the original, with the first church said to be in Jerusalem. Over time, Christianity branched into several groups like the Church of the East, Oriental Orthodoxy, Eastern Orthodoxy, Roman Catholicism, Protestantism, and Restorationism.

In its early days, the traditional churches built schools, hospitals, and provided services that genuinely benefited the community. They did this without exploiting their congregants. But as time went on, evangelical churches started popping up what one of my great of all time writer, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie calls “mushroom churches” in her book “Purple Hibiscus”. I’m not generalizing all evangelical churches, but many sprouted after the colonial period, often without any regulation, and some have become quite problematic.

These churches often target vulnerable people, especially our mothers. With this, sometimes, I tend to believe that the colonialists had a plan,  schools for the children, prisons for the fathers, and churches for the mothers. Anyway, that’s just a detour, let’s get back on track…A lot of these churches manipulate their followers, brainwashing them into accepting whatever the pastor says without question while reasoning that questioning will lead to the unthinkable,absurd! When pastors claim that questioning them will lead to whatever, it’s really just a way to manipulate their followers. You don’t fail or fall by speaking up or seeking answers for God’s sake !

Times without number, I’ve also heard pastors glorify poverty, insisting that wealth distances you from God, they say that having money makes you less inclined to pray. These same pastors live in luxury, strikingly paradoxical ! Some even discourage their followers from seeking medical help, claiming that doing so demonstrates a lack of faith in God, despite the Bible stating, “faith without action  is dead.” Are they referring to something who’s content they do not understand or did it change overnight ?

It’s ironic how these extreme churches often have the largest followings. And what really frustrates me is the constant fundraising, with no transparency on where the money goes. I’m tired of seeing congregants grow poorer while pastors grow wealthier. Churches should be shaping and speaking up for the community, but many stay silent when it doesn’t affect them…I am just sick and tired of this top tier deception, emotional control, psychological tactics, coercion, gas lighting, name it all! let me take a break! One day, we’ll go deeper into this, especially on how pastors are now called “Daddy” and their wives “Mummy.”

@okelododdychitchats

To Dream, We Must Leave

We stand in the land of our birth,
Where the soil is rich,
Yet dreams suffocate beneath heavy skies,
And hopes lie buried where they mourn. 

Here, we are born with hands wide open,
Grasping air, reaching for a future yet to be revealed.
But the streets tell us stories of hunger, 
Of shackled lives and promises unfulfilled.

We grow, we study, we strive in vain, 
Taught to believe that success is near, 
Yet the doorways close, and the silence whispers, 
“You have no room to dream here.” 

So we turn our eyes toward the seas,
To lands where the stars seem to shine. 
We leave in desperation, hearts heavy with hope, 
Chasing a life that might finally be mine. 

But in the hands of strangers, we are trapped, 
Told lies of riches, and work that promised success, 
Only to find chains where freedom was denied, 
And shadows where truth reveals. 

Our sisters sold into prostitution, our brothers enslaved,
In distant lands where our names are lost, 
The price of our dreams is paid in pain, 
And no one speaks of the cost. 

Oh, Africa, land of forgotten wealth, 
Your soil rich, your people poor, 
Why do you allow your children to lose their way?
Why must we leave to dream once more? 

If only self-interest could fade, 
If justice could rise from the dirt, 
Perhaps then we’d stand unshackled, 
And know what it is to dream without hurt. 

But until then, we flee, we fight, 
Crossing borders, losing sight,  
Of who we are, of where we’re from, 
For in our lands, we cannot dream as one.

Why We Must Reclaim Our Right to Dream at Home

Dreaming is a universal right, it is for everyone, not just a select few. Dreaming allows us to look ahead to better futures, pursue opportunities, and shape our lives. Yet, for many Africans, dreaming feels like a distant privilege. Whether educated or not, skilled or unskilled, the struggle for a better life remains an unstoppable force. For most, the only option to escape this harsh reality is leaving home in search of greener pastures abroad, whether legally or illegally.

But these journeys are often treacherous. Promises of good jobs and better lives abroad lead many into the traps of human trafficking and exploitation, Sad! The stories are painfully familiar, young men and women, driven by desperation, leave their homes only to find themselves trapped in modern-day slavery. Some are forced into labour without pay, others into prostitution. They lose not only their freedom but also their identities, their dignity!  Having been deceived into believing that life outside Africa holds the answers they seek.

The tragedy is that these journeys take their origin from a single painful truth, many African countries don’t allow their citizens the freedom to dream at home. In a continent so rich in natural resources, oil, diamonds, gold, copper, and more. This reality is hard to reconcile. But the wealth of Africa is often mismanaged or hoarded by a select few, leaving the majority to struggle. Corruption, poor governance, and self-interest have prevented this wealth from translating into opportunities for ordinary people. Instead of developing industries that can employ millions, or investing in systems that allow citizens to thrive, resources are drained to feed the desires of a few. And so, we are forced to seek out dreams elsewhere, in lands that promise more but often deliver less.

Why must we leave to dream? Why can’t we fulfil our ambitions at home? The answer lies in the conditions that force so many to flee. Opportunities are scarce, infrastructure is weak, and education systems, while improving, often fall short in equipping young people with the skills they need to compete in a global economy, take a look at what the 8.4.4 education system in Kenya achieved and compare it to what the Competency-Based Curriculum (CBC) is doing now. Both systems have well-designed structures, but due to poor implementation, they will for certain fail to equip students with the skills needed for real-life success. Those who do succeed in gaining education or skills often find there are no jobs to match their qualifications. And while entrepreneurship is an option for some, it is often hampered by a lack of access to capital, poor infrastructure, and overly complicated regulations.

These challenges create a vicious cycle where leaving becomes the only viable option. But leaving doesn’t always lead to the freedom or success that many envision. Human trafficking has become one of the most dangerous industries preying on vulnerable Africans. Unscrupulous agents lure people with promises of high-paying jobs abroad, only to subject them to brutal conditions once they arrive. Men, women, and children are often forced into hard labour or sold into sexual exploitation, trapped far from home and without the means to escape. They either do it, or they pay for it with their lives! These stories project an image of a wider problem, a continent whose potential is stifled, whose children are forced to seek safety, success, and dignity far away.

But it doesn’t have to be this way. Africa can become a place where dreams are born and fulfilled. It begins with us demanding better governance and believing in our potential. For too long, corruption and manipulation has drained the lifeblood of African countries, siphoning off billions that could be used to create jobs, build schools, improve healthcare, and support industries that generate wealth for the people. Good governance where leaders are accountable and resources are managed responsibly can create environments where opportunities flourish. With transparent systems in place, we can begin to build the infrastructure that allows businesses to grow and employ people, reducing the need for migration in search of work.

Education is another crucial piece of the puzzle. For Africa to truly grow and develop, we must invest in quality, accessible education. Young people need not only academic skills but also practical, vocational training that allows them to build sustainable livelihoods. Entrepreneurship, too, should be nurtured. Africa is brimming with untapped talent and creativity. With better access to finance, mentorship, and infrastructure, local businesses can thrive, creating jobs and lifting communities out of poverty.

We also need to protect those who seek opportunities abroad. Migration should be a choice, not a necessity. African governments must work with international organizations to create safer, legal pathways for those who wish to work in other countries. Stronger labour protections and better enforcement of anti-trafficking laws can prevent many from falling into the traps of exploitation. But most importantly, we need to build systems that make staying home a viable option so that Africans no longer feel the need to leave in order to live their dreams.

Africa’s wealth should be used for the benefit of its people. For too long, multinational corporations have extracted resources from the continent without giving back to local communities. If African governments prioritize local ownership and control of resources, they can reinvest profits into vital sectors like infrastructure, education, and healthcare. This, in turn, creates a foundation for long-term development. When managed responsibly, Africa’s natural wealth can lift millions out of poverty, turning our vast resources into a force for good.

We also need to empower communities through civic education. People need to understand their rights and hold leaders accountable. An informed and active citizenry can demand better services, transparency, and the creation of real opportunities for all. Civic engagement helps ensure that governments prioritize the needs of their people over their own self-interests.

The story of Africa is not one of despair. It is one of potential of a continent that has everything it needs to make significant progress, but hasn’t yet realized its full potential. By tackling the root causes of migration, human trafficking, and exploitation, we can create a future where Africans can dream and build fulfilling lives at home. This is not just a possibility, it is a matter of urgency.

We must reclaim our right to dream, and we must do so on African soil. Only then will we see a future where migration is no longer a necessity but a choice. Only then will we stop the tragic stories of exploitation that have plagued our communities for far too long. Africa is rich, not just in minerals, but in the brilliance of its people. It is time for that brilliance to shine here, where it belongs. To do that, we must invest in our people, build our institutions, and ensure that every African has the chance to dream, right at home.

@okelododdychitchats