A Poem About William Ruto and the White House's Resolute Desk

At the Resolute Desk, a figure sits crouched, In the White House halls, where shadows fall.

William Ruto, had a promise to keep, But history teaches us men slip.

Pan-African dreams, once bold and bright, Echo through time, in the dead of night.

From Lumumba's cries, in Congo's strife,
To Cabral's fight, for Guinea's life.

Machel's spirit, in Mozambique's strife, Nyerere's wisdom, guiding us to light.Mandela's courage, in the face of chains, Their legacy endures, in Africa's veins.

Yet here, in this room, a pact is made, Where old bonds weaken, and dreams fade.

Neocolonial shadows, dark and vast,
Cast a pall over the future, and link us to the past.

The struggle we fought, fierce, against foreign might, For sovereignty's dawn, for justice's light. But in this act, a silent betrayal, Our heroes' vision, grows thin and frail.

Ruto's sitting at this white man's desk,
Symbolizes more than words can express.

A nod to powers that once oppressed, A step away from the quest for the best.

In the eyes of Africa's sons and daughters,
Lies the hope for uncharted waters.

Yet treachery's whisper, cold and stark,
Dims the light of freedom's spark.

The Resolute Desk, it stands as a sign, Of choices made, of blurry lines.
Between a future bright, and shadows cast,
By the echoes of a troubled past.

The Author is an East African Patriot