A Man’s World

This is a recollection of my growing up as a boy at Eastlands in Nairobi.

Tears welled in my eyes,
As memories reigned supreme,
Memories less flattering,
Memories that still linger.

I once was,
A small boy of pity,
Helpless, weak,
And depended, for support, on mother.

When the boy next door,
Came brandishing his fist,
I scurried to mother calling,
And only insulted at her side.

I was jeered at,
By other boys,
Who had the energy to waste,
Playing their dirty paper ball!

The slightest,
Bullying and punching,
Broke my heart of glass,
And hot tears streamed my cheeks.

Softie, mother’s boy,
Were their descriptions of me,
Girlish boy, they sneered,
As a sock came hurtling my way.

How vulnerable I was,
How puerile,
Stupid, even,
For a boy to expect a smooth sail.

In the evening, my father chided,
Son, taking a loaded punch,
Swallowing a maiming insult,
Are the ingredients of a man’s world.