Job in Molo

The following is a set of poems written by a fellow classmate from Kenya who has now graduated and returned home. He was in the Job class with me this past semester, and this was his final product for the class. It is a set of three poems which reflect of the events of the land clashes involving tribal massacres in 1992 in Kenya. These poems describe the events in Molo, Kenya, Joseph's hometown.
This poem seems particularly important to hear on our nation's day of independence, as we reflect on our own priviledge with gratitude, and yet grieve with other nations which have not yet found the same peace and safety our country has.
These poems are shared with Joseph's permission.

Poem I

Let my heart chatter with Job
Let Job's story challenge me
Job the righteous man speak
Job you did nothing wrong,

But God ruined your valued life.
God killed your whole family,
God destroyed your property
God gave you horrible diseases.

But you fiercely confronted God
From God you demanded justice
Yet you did not reject your God,
Job Speak to our naive theology.

Let me remember Molo my home
Molo I will neve-ever forget you
Molo a land of plenty and success
A land flowing with milk and honey

Where is Molo our land of bounty?
Truly Molo is now a land of beggars
From ashes and dust the cry is heard
Let Lament echo gloomy wildness

Let me talk the agony of genocides
I will name the sting in my heart now
Even if I will prick the old wounds
Let the cremated wealth also lament.

Let the dead bodies in the field speak
Let the killed sons and daughters cry
Let the raped ladies and girls lament
Let the orphaned and widowed weep

Whirlwinds of storms pound Molo
It is dust to dust and ashes to ashes
I will never curse Molo my home
Let Molo echo meaning to my life.

Let me curse entries of guns in Molo
Let deadly igniting arrowheads fade
Let me gripe brutal regimes in Africa
Let all African despotic regimes fade

Pain of one is joy to others we say
But let me find the profiteer of war
Before I blame the butcher's knife
Let me blame the alien blacksmith

Poem II

A walk in Molo a desolate land
It is right after the mass destruction
When air is much clearer and cool
But the bitter memory moves on

Promises are gone with their memories
Tomorrow never dawned on Molo
No time to say good-bye to the slain
One was left the other was taken

Why are children looking for parents
Why are parents looking for children
The dead bodies are now everywhere
As the earth roars its unspoken trauma

Yes the genocides are ended today
But the land is severely traumatized
The anger in unchained; it is loose
Bitterness is untamed and pervasive

Feelings of revenge are mounting up
The pain intrudes again and again,
How it comes and goes I cannot tell
It's one of the worst mistakes of man

Stings of terrific loss rest in my heart
The truth of my lost assets and clout
But where is God in our gun policies
Have nations rejected or cursed God

Who is voice for the voiceless folks?
Who is the father of the fatherless?
Who is the mother of the motherless?
God come and hear our cry and now.

What a recipe of novel civilization?
Reasoning with God returns to Molo
But by now it's too late and deperate
God is now our portion and strength

Poem III

Darkened clouds, whirlwind and dust
I am left alone in never-ending pain
My pain is scorching with no sense.
Sour tale of deadly arrows draw near

The manslayers had left me for dead.
But I survived to tell this gloomy tale
I am alone without home and friends
Emptiness and solo mirror disasters

My life too is now melted and blackened
Memories will always drag me down
Trapped for all days, will I be found
My life hopes and aspirations are gone

In painful memories nation can lament
The folks who owned all but are zero
All is ruined, blackened and desolated
All the sweat is shred and fallen apart

Drought from pain I least expected
My life is chaotic days in, days out
I've cried for days now I cease to cry
Molo is no longer my hom in life

Let the streams of justice dawn now
For I will never forget my gone glory
Forgive and forget the manslayers say
But I will forgive and never forget them

Is Justice a national shield and defender?
Let the redeemer be on victims side Job?
Job! Help me to resist cheap answers
God of Job! Come and vindicate me!