Sir. Abunerry

By Abunerry.  Who is this young boy in the wilds? Crawling in the dust, crutches in pain Through the cattle, through dung, through silence Why is he in the kraal but not in the school? Why is his future impending, left in the dark? Who is to blame?   He owns no books, uniforms, or pens Only groomed tied to his bones They deny him the basic needs Yet, he serves, yet he survives, yet he walks I ask Who is to blame?   Why is silence louder than justice? Why do we build kraals but not schools? Why must children grow where cattle sleep? Are we raising hope or burying it in the dungeons? Tell me, Who is to blame?   What if there were safety? What if there were schools? What if there were hearts that care? Would this boy walk alone in the dust covered with thistles? Would his tears speak louder than ours would? Wait, Who is to blame?   Will there be a stop to Junub’s wailing? Who will protect us, the broken, t...

As I was travelling to the Pojulu Cultural Festival To meet my beautiful, unknown Nyoka Ruei struck without warning I saw him wandering without a head A ghost set loose on empty streets   I asked a bystander why he walked abroad  Leju drew near and whispered low “They have released him to spread terror On critics of the system.”    “What!” I shouted. “How blatant do you think they are? Where is the justice?” And I broke down in tears.  Ruei heard us.   Without warning, he struck Leju from behind And he fell With his club, he forced his way toward me I stepped backwards, heart pounding past its speed Above, I saw the law wailing in the sky We are brutalised.    Every face around was shocked. Is there a system in Junubi That can hold anyone accountable Ruei raised his club toward my head I lifted my Bible to block the blow Expecting fire to consume it But none came.    The Spi...

  Dawn past dusk, I try Light in dark all run dry. A rope round my belly I tie, Hold back breath, I slowly die, All stuck still in dark. Oh, vanity, Junub in futility  Clothed in fractured unity A promise in vanity Expecting love, I found but hate Seeking peace, I nurtured war. Prosperity caged in poverty Light remained, yet blanketed Oh, vanity, hope runs empty. Oh, vanity! Junub in futility  Clothed in fractured unity A promise in vanity Morning glory, no rise gains Brighten shadows all withdrawn Dine to shine, yet gloom remains Search to find, all still bound in dark All dry all stuck, all in dark Oh, vanity! Junub in futility  Clothed in fractured unity A promise in vanity © Sir Abunerry

"As for those who persist in sin, rebuke them in the presence of all, so that the rest may stand in fear."  1 Timothy 5:20 ,   Have you read in the Bible about a story of a prophet who was confronted by a donkey on his way to curse a mighty people? We find this story in Numbers 22. Balaam was God’s prophet who disobeyed His instructions. Unusual things happened to him through his donkey, which refused to proceed because God’s angel was threatening to reverse the journey. Out of ignorance, Balaam continually struck the donkey, whose God opened its mouth to speak to him. Shortly, Balaam saw the angel of the Lord standing with a sword, warning him to return home. We learned here, that God used unusual things to speak to His prophet. This story teaches that God can use anything to correct his people, including the prophets. Two days ago, I came across a post shared by The Church Newspaper Zambia about a prominent “prophet”, Apostle Johnson Suleman. The paper quoted him saying...

  DESPERATE JOURNEY A few years down the road, I thought of crossing borders In search of greener pastures. I didn't want to be a refugee in Uganda I had felt the smell of it in the 90s. Life was at stake, I didn't want a repeat. I was threatened by allegations, I was accused, robbed many times, Jailed twice and drowned in hunger Bled internally, but pretended strongly. Every time I decide on the desperate journey, I am reminded of one thing: Your home shall be fine one day. Yet the economy continues to collapse Security continues to erode, Death clings, feeding everywhere With joy, children celebrate Gunshots like New Year's fireworks This has not been easy I thought of traveling only to find Myself in a training site My friend Simon insisted Today he is in France. Yet, the desperate journey Has finished young South Sudanese. It is only God's providence That one can cross The 200 km Libyan desert. It is only God's grace That one can cross The stormy 60 km Mediterra...

21-4-2026 They created the ground, we opted to utilize it Our survival they ramshackle it  They blamed us for living free They tortured us, our legs they pegged tight  With no mercy, they drove us On rugs  and rigs lands. With thorn and thistle, They dropped us into caves We became aliens in our own land, Fractured and scattered in our own home Left to stink to the mercy of ants. Ouch, the future is dull and junky. Ouch, what a dustbin of tomorrow. Ouch, is there a deliverer in the distance? Ouch, cries my future! © Sir Abunerry