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Wajinga

Wajinga
Wajinga, we're mad about Kenya,
The country, the people, the game.
The mossies have bitten us too many times,
We'll none of us be quite the same.

We'll sing and tell each other stories
Reminisce through a day of good cheer,
And sit outside in the afternoon
With a Tusker Larger beer.

Are you mad with an affection
For some precious memories you hold;
The ones you will not let tarnish
Not even when you are old.

Then you will know the feeling
And the fervor that we share
When we let our heart strings quiver
At the treasures we have lying there.

Our ranks are growing thinner now
And some of us have passed away,
Those East African enthusiasts
With whom we used to play.

Wajinga is what they call us,
Wajinga, that is the name,
We sing the old Swahili songs
Again and again and again.

Wajinga - from jinga - foolish inexperienced plural “wa” - Swahili. Hence mad people!
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Submitted on October 09, 2013

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Neil McLeod Claim this poet

Born in Oxford, raised in Kenya, past winner of Los Slamgeles Poetry Slam and author of abitingchance.blogspot.comand "The First Thanksgiving".Doctor McLeod is a performing poet who has recited at Highland Games, dinners and Burns Nights for the last 36 years. He is happily married, lives and works in Los Angeles,has three children, and practices as a dentist on Sunset Boulevard:http://www.drneilmcleod.com/He can be contacted by e-mail at drneilmcleod@yahoo.com and will willingly entertain requests to share his work with permission. more…

All Neil McLeod poems | Neil McLeod Books

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