Cops come hurrying with guns
Here and there
Like a plague of locusts
Like madmen chasing nothing.
Pregnant teargas clouds
Fill the air with a pungent smell,
The baton swishes by
And a vendor falls on his back to let it pass.
Screams of Kikuubo traders,
In the din of the whipping batons,
Barefooted, spanners falling from their overalls
In and out
The cops pursue
Whilst a welder falls to beg for mercy.
Owino market women,
dangling breasts, babies hanging on backs
Dash for cover
As the murderous batons
Rumble, tremble and crack
Amidst the hubbub of scampering traders
And the pelting march of relentless LDUs.
(A modern adaptation of An African Thunderstorm by David Rubadiri)