Endarasha - Children In The Crucible Poem by Job Ombati

'What fire does not destroy, it hardens.'_ (Unknown)

Endarasha today is
a bevy of activity.
Laughter again
reverberates around it's walls;
children skid down its verandahs.
There are chalk scribblings
on the blackboards,
books to be marked
and paper litter
on the flowerbeds.
Life has returned.
Will it find a home here?

It was all like this
before the fire.
Joy abounded.
Parents always trusting
that their progeny
was safe and sound
and awaiting end of term,
with open hugs.

Then, one night,
fire came raining down -
so thought the children.
It licked clean
children laughter,
their innocence
and Endarasha's rich mem'ry.

The dailies read:
'7 souls lost'
'Desperate neighbours -
with empty water buckets -'
'Hundreds nurse
deep emotional wounds -
turned seared scars'
and 'Tens
need counseling.'

Carefreeness was gone;
parents' hearts are now
racing locomotives.
Today, Endarasha is
a busy beehive.
Children games are back
and children songs can be heard.
The teacher puts on
a brave face
for the children,
and the flowerbeds
have blossomed again.

It was like this
before the fire.
Joy abounded.
Then, one night,
fire came raining.
It licked clean
everything in its way.
Safe for this picture
on the wall,
of immortalized smiles and souls.

Poems for Humanity

[Wednesday 30, April 2025: 5: 46 pm Nairobi]