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Conjolted Poetry

Conjolted Poetry

Monday, 12 August 2013

Apenyo Derrick

“Eh! Aloo, londa sabuni wo,” Pick up your soap,
the man said to me in our communal bathroom.
The words keep running round in my head,
despite surviving many years of jail time and torment.

My name is Apenyo Derrick.
I hail from a small town called Gulu
A place where rebels used to frequent and frolic;
It was home till I left, a thing I wished I didn't do.

My story starts off with cliche poverty!
I am beat down, broken, and long for money.
Its need gets me off my feet to seek
what makes me conceited yet fills me with deceit.
I start my journey acquainted to a certain group-
recommend by a friend that took a similar route.
Their mission as they called it was “Godly,”
I joined them with ludicrous naivety.

We were moved into the barracks of Luwero.
Our master was demanding like a pharreo.
We prepared daily for what he called, “special missions.”
In oblivion, we worked tooth and nail without a vision.

The mornings were always horrendous,we woke by 4.00 a.m on the dot,
unaccustomed, It was a colossal task to ask;
however, only a few of us were taken to the “spot.”

The “Spot” was in a meadow beyond the bankers.
We did as told, no matter how strange or bonkers.
One morning, just before the break of dawn,
after our routine, we did something out of the norm.
He got us marching as we chanted;
“La ilaha illAllah, Muhammadur Rasulullah.
"La ilaha illAllah, Muhammadur  Rasulullah”
On and on until we halted.Then he barked, “TAKBEER!”

Being atheist, these words were new,
I didn't know how to respond or what to do,
So I froze with a tinge of fear and waited,
one of the soldiers in the back responded;


‘’TAKBEER!” he said,


We went on and on for a few moments,
back and forth like a teacher and students.
Then he briefed us;

 “Today marks your first for duty.
By days end, you will be in Juba,
You'll meet a team called Guerrilla,
Instructions will be given by their commander,

So we set off and hours later we were at vantage point,
where we met the general, who was somewhat quaint.

He instructed us to board a panther bus-
which was Kampala bound on Juba highway,
plant bombs and set them to detonate,
then jump off at a particular spot.

When it was time for execution,
sweat flowed from my pores like a river,
my head grew light, I started to quiver,
minutes later I fainted and we aborted mission.

Luckily, a friend saved and carried me out.
He told me we left the passengers in awe,
wondering what all our fuss and panic was about.
Bright side was we didn't get caught for my flaw.

When I awakened,
I was locked up and naked-
in one of the cells of our barracks,
undergoing punishment on orders of the monarch.

I was whipped through day spared at night,
soldiers passed by throwing unfair banter,
I stayed there for about a fortnight,
banking on God's mercy and meagre water.

I grew weary each day, I turned into debris.
I was finally released and back to routine.
The commander swore he would break me,
as if while in the cell I was imbibing on protein.

I had grown zonked of it all,
It was not what I had signed up for.
But there was no way out of the froth.
So I hang onto my thread and carried forth.

When I was m.i.a they had a mission to Tanzania,
they told me how they went head on with death,
dodged it by whisker and were dealing with insomnia,
I told them to rejoice, for at least, they still had breath.

Then came the actual D-Day,
one of those I remember like it was yesterday.
It came a few days after my awful torment,
at least I had overcome what we underwent.

We woke up at the usual time,
then gathered at the spot for briefing.
“TAKBEER,” he started us off.




“Today you will be sent off to Kenya”
The Pharaoh spoke.
“You will get to the city centre and by 3 pm
you will be transported to forest mall.
When you get there I expect you-
to coup its control centre...
If need be, kill!
Once you have gained control,
make demands then contact me.
If all fails, You'll be strapped with bombs
and for failure, blow the building down.

The repercussions for failure perplexed us,
hours later we were in downtown Kenya,
for what seemed like the expiry of our tenure.
We prepared and bombs were strapped onto us,
then we set off to forest mall to chase death.

Once the door of our black van was opened,
We run to the gate as the van skid off.
We took out the officers that had us cornered,
then the mission officially kicked off.

When we reached the receptionist,
we toyed with her like a ventriloquist.
We asked her to comply or die,
when she saw our guns she didn't ask why.

we made sure the whole building was secured,
a renegade on each corner of the mall.
We made demands and ransom was assured.
Minutes later we received the Pharaoh's call.
“When they hand you the bags," he said
"there's a chopper on the pad to fly them to Mombasa."
I realised something fishy was going on.

The bags came and I called Imran, his errand boy.
Minutes later, the police was deployed,
the bad whiff was a sign, it was a ploy,
For as his bags flew off, in came a military convoy.

When the first solider jumped out,
we didn't allow them to camp out.
But their number grew even faster.
One of our men started to quiver,
dropped his gun and decided to split.
He got hit, we knew it a reckless feat.
So he detonated his bomb-
the left wing went into tatters...

our number dwindled by the minute,
most of our armour got finished,
then the right wing collapsed,
another renegade had lapsed.

I weighed out and called for ceasefire;
But, most had decided their way to retire.
The bombs went off and flames rose,
rubble buried them, the fired was hosed.

I run out with hands up but took a hit to my chest,
thing's got blurry I don't remember the rest.
I got life sentence, treatment was a supplement.
I ended up in a prison called kyankwanzi,
Where I ended up playing as Britney,
for famished mates that had opted for sodomy. 

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