25 November 2012


A few months ago, I held a new born baby. A tiny, sweet, handsome man that belonged to one of my friends. His tiny fingers tightly gripping my finger, his sharp nails (by the way, the nails of the tiny ones are usually very sharp) softly pricking my neck as I held him to rest on my shoulder. I smiled. A true and genuine smile, from deep within. It was a breath-taking moment for me. As I held the young one, I swiftly shifted to my fantasies.

I get invited to many baby showers and my joy is not even in the food (though I don’t mind) or the socialization, but in seeing and holding someone that has been delivered to this earth for the very first time and well, say “welcome to the world baby”. Also, I delight in watching (and learning from them), the mothers protectively hold and hug their own…mmmmh mmmmh mmmmh.

As I watched mother and son bond, I was really touched. I shed a tear, no two. I mean, there can never be enough words to express the sweet relationship and bond between a mother and a child. I was taken aback by this. No matter what circumstances the child came through, a mother will always find joy in her child or children.

The mum lay the young babe on her chest and the young one just slept there, on her, his head resting on the place where her heart is and just slept soundly…(yeah, its soothing). However, I am not saying that the fathers don’t bond with their young ones, but that of a mother is much more deep, much more…..more intense, profound. And to those who felt or still feel that their mothers do not love them, well they do a lot

As I think about it all, I can’t wait for my own young one to come (actually I can wait till then). He/she will be greatly loved! I will jealously love him/her and others will also be jealous. I just envision it and can already feel a mother’s joy in my heart.

A mother’s joy IS in their child.


Boom! Thump!
A mother is rushing,
The walls are crushing,
Wails all around.
The victims we surround,
The screams, cries are loud,
The father, mother, sister, brother,
Victims of another’s blunder
As we stare and ponder,
Why kill your brother?
Where is the love?
Where is the love?
For the victims of Eastileigh
For the victims of Bargoi
This is Kenya,
Let's live together,
Loving each other.
For the sake of the fallen.


8 November 2012


Being sorry can be very hard when we're overwhelmed with pride,
But sometimes our pride must take a fall before we lose out,
And when we have to say sorry we should mean it from our soul, A meaningless sorry is like a broken promise to the heart.

 And it only hurts more in the end, bringing bitter resentment,
And leading to the loss of a love that should be eternal,
Bringing us back down to earth from the fairytale world of our mind,
With a pain that is maddening, physical and sometimes critical.

My heart is weeping tears of blood for the pain that I've caused you,
And it's crying out my apologies to your mind,
Pleading for your forgiveness for my unfortunate outbursts,
I never meant, in a million years, to be so unkind.

I have made mistakes in the past but never as serious as this,
And I know I will only have myself to blame ,
And that scares me more than I've ever been scared in my life,
For you're my true motivation, the only real thing in which I believe.

And all that's left for me to do is say sorry in a sincere way,
With an apology that comes from deep inside my soul,
It's all I have left to offer for your love and your loyalty,
It's just a pity that my own loyalty, I couldn't hold.

So please take time to think about what I've said, as it comes from the heart,
Take time and try to forgive me my failure to deliver,

© Lorraine Phikellilah. All rights reserved

5 November 2012


I see him,
Stout legs, strong feet
Sharp talons, hooked bill.
I feel him,
Large, broad, strong wings,
Sharp, piercing eyes.

He spots me from a great distance,
I cover my chicks in an instance,
His eagle eyes on my young ones,
Ready to swoop low, in an second or so
Ready to rip the flesh from their tiny twisted bones.

He thinks I can’t see him,
But I do.
He thinks I can’t fight him
But I will.
He thinks he can steal my nestling,
But he won’t.

I will fight, protect, and support my pullet
From the assault of an eagle,
Any eagle, the eagle.