Witnesses of Murder

Reads: 213  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

a young aspiring, beautiful girl is killed. her death becomes a mystery. her boyfriend tries to connect the dots of the murderers but the challenge comes up that it looks her death is complex and although many know who killed her they cannot talk, those who know her death have been coached to provide a version that a house help killed her. the poet uses animals to describe how the witnesses have the best information about who killed her, but the poem provides hope to the boyfriend, that a fly will go far from the house owner- who is the killer of the girl and tells the truth. the poem portrays injustice, betrayal, deceit and how people who have money and authority can buy justice in their favour.

Witnesses

 

Cockroaches were listening attentively this time 

But seemed not to care
 
Mosquitoes were hymning a comical song 
 
Not the normal feeding hymn they always do
 
But I knew they were ridiculing me 
 
And the cat flamboyantly crisscrossing legs 
 
After eating the sauce of the house owner
 
Kept smiling at me
 
 As I listened to testimonies of Lizard and Jackal 
 
Narrating how my beautiful maiden died 
 
The truth is the houseboy killed your fiancée 
 
Ohh my heart bleeds when I know she is no more 
 
The Lizard narrates with crocodile tears 
 
The rumpen houseboy killed her by strangling 
 
Like an FBI special agent solving homicide case 
 
The Lizard reconstructs the homicide scene
 
With grotesque pictures ironically depicting truth
 
 He was standing on the door from the dining room 
 
The shabby faced houseboy shot his eyes on her
 
As she was sitting on a sofa seat 
 
Flipping through messages on whatsApp 
 
With light from her phone litting her virtuous face 
 
Like a lion on its prey he jumped and choked her
 
 I cried as she choked to death, her face turning pale 
 
But the jackal says he was there, he saw it all 
 
Like the lizard, the stout house boy killed my angel 
 
Not by strangling but by cut throat 
 
After her accusing him of cooking bad food 
 
Armed with a knife, he dashed to the living room 
 
While she flipped through her phone messages 
 
Like a butcher cutting a hen, he cut her throat 
 
Blood gushing out of her throat filling sofa seat 
 
Her head lay back helplessly in the chair, jackal says 
 
As he wipes his dry tears from his Judas Iscariot’s face 
 
But one thing is analogous to the lizard and jackal 
 
The timid rat that refused to testify
 
For fear of the house owner’s wrath says 
 
As she focuses on the maize she is eating 
 
They were coached to testify, not what they saw 
 
But the frowning fly swiftly buzzes around the room
 
Like America’s F-15E Strike Eagle over Afghanistan 
 
He wants to speak but fears the house owner 
 
For grief in his eyes cultivates credence in me 
 
That he knows the truth, the light to liberate me 
 
He will fly far from the house and spill the truth 
 
And there then will the spirit of my angel rest
 
© Dias Nyesiga 2021


Submitted: August 28, 2021

© Copyright 2022 Dias. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:


Facebook Comments

Other Content by Dias