a poem by peninnah ng'ang'a, Kenya

Don't take it personally dear teacher
my folks suffer the same aches you do.
"You were born without principles" mama often wails
and dad,
dad thinks am nectar for mischief,trouble and mystery.

I talk too much,i know
and my phone tends to be very indiscipline during lectures
am in brokerage you see;
have to put alert on alerts,
am sure i don't need to explain the markets to you,do i?
Of course, you the economist!

No no no!Believe me I would never be insubordinate,
not on purpose,of course!
My learned fellow AKA dad
should have never let me play that long in his study;
then I wouldn't know as much as i know
most times too much than you know!
but ofcourse,you the lecturer!

Yes sir i know, I know I am the class president
and you right;am more of a villain than a leader
but I'll have you know
in the list of my perfectionist mother's achievements
am the only entry of the right things she got perfectly wrong!
And she is proudly,proud, of my her twisted daughter awesome flaws!
Just saying,the recommendation on this disciplinary write up
Will break her heart!

I rest my case,sir.

(to my unborn child Mia,should you ever inherit my mischievous DNA,just make sure you don't bring home one of this disciplinary letters!)

©Ng'ang'a Peninnah

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