Welcome to Kenya National Bureau of Statistics

Welcome to Kenya National Bureau of Statistics

JCMT

Good Friday

What makes Good Friday good?” you ask.
A challenge! A rather daunting task.
Some may dismiss it with a shrug and a smirk,
And consider it another day off work.
Others, religious, pious as such,
Take a few minutes for a mournful watch;
Merchants unlock their doors with glee,
Anticipating the pre-Easter shopping spree.
A bunny here, a chocolate egg there,
Symbols of a society that doesn’t care.
“Care?” you say, “Do you mean me?”
“What’s there to care; how can this be?”
It’s the cross, you forget, that rugged wood,
That makes Good Friday eternally good.
What’s so good about the death of an ancient man,
Who died long before my life began?
This man, who on this earth once trod,
Was not only man, but the Son of God.
That wood, that tree, that old rugged cross,
Was the symbol of gain and the symbol of loss.
To those who believe, it is the promise of gain;
The hope that, like Jesus, we’ll rise again!
For the skeptic, the doubter, the meaning is loss;
An eternal gulf, which no one can cross.
Good Friday is good, because of the death
Of Jesus the Savior, who gave His last breath
So you, friend, and I, could be cleared of our guilt,
Redeemed by the blood of the Lamb that was spilt.
Mourn not, my dear soul, for the death of the Lamb,
For that cross made the bridge to the Great I AM.
Christ paid the price, rose again to God’s side,
And brought us next Sunday: the Resurrection-tide!

JCMT

Good Friday

What makes Good Friday good?” you ask.
A challenge! A rather daunting task.
Some may dismiss it with a shrug and a smirk,
And consider it another day off work.
Others, religious, pious as such,
Take a few minutes for a mournful watch;
Merchants unlock their doors with glee,
Anticipating the pre-Easter shopping spree.
A bunny here, a chocolate egg there,
Symbols of a society that doesn’t care.
“Care?” you say, “Do you mean me?”
“What’s there to care; how can this be?”
It’s the cross, you forget, that rugged wood,
That makes Good Friday eternally good.
What’s so good about the death of an ancient man,
Who died long before my life began?
This man, who on this earth once trod,
Was not only man, but the Son of God.
That wood, that tree, that old rugged cross,
Was the symbol of gain and the symbol of loss.
To those who believe, it is the promise of gain;
The hope that, like Jesus, we’ll rise again!
For the skeptic, the doubter, the meaning is loss;
An eternal gulf, which no one can cross.
Good Friday is good, because of the death
Of Jesus the Savior, who gave His last breath
So you, friend, and I, could be cleared of our guilt,
Redeemed by the blood of the Lamb that was spilt.
Mourn not, my dear soul, for the death of the Lamb,
For that cross made the bridge to the Great I AM.
Christ paid the price, rose again to God’s side,
And brought us next Sunday: the Resurrection-tide!

JCMT

The Democratic Way

Ghosts lived
Everywhere
And no where
Clad like any other
Looking for a prey


Hunted was
Freedom to think
Dissention caused
Death at blink


Forced thoughts
Drilled down throats
Idealistic burden
Swept across valleys


Democratic evil
Rode on law
Commodity overrated
Plunders of the wind


Culpability covered
Right under the conscience
Scoffed on media
Was dying truth


Illustrated happiness
Shams on flops
Ridiculed order
Institutionalized disorder


Anomalies justified
Called neo equity
Unions dissolved
By secret police


Government of people
Represented few
The rest outgrew
Considered carder


Omnipresent smiles of
Omnipotent General
Amended at will was
Commended army act


Tyranny of tyrant
Made to be standard
Pompous speeches
Profoundly branded


Development measured
By concrete / iron
Poverty took toll
Mothers killed infants


Instigated nationalism
Taken for granted
Enticed civil war
Bread of elite


Flags fluttered
Anthems sung
The public wept
And euphoric utopia
Unhappily never ended!

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Lent in the Catholic Church

Lent in the Catholic Church - About Catholics

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Democracy

Democracy, the Fat One cried -
It’s ours, you lot haven’t a clue!
We’re big, we’re the best, your way is all lies,
For only OUR vision is true.

Democracy! The Fat One yelled -
We’ve worked on it ever so hard !
We’re gonna make sure our democracy stays,
And we’ll start by controlling our back yard.

First we’ll begin by stealing all your gold,
So OUR lifestyle stays pleasantly high;
Then we’ll manipulate, cheat, to maintain a firm hold
Until your hope will eventually die.

Then we’ll seek power, because you are all fools,
And not to be trusted with dreams:
We’ll find the depraved and use them as tools
And block off our ears to your screams.

Now one day you’ll rise and the monsters will go,
And this rebirth will be a new dawn -
We’ll stifle your trade, watch your despair grow,
And undermine you with our scorn.

Oh! The Fat One is best, our democracy’s strong,
We’re Masters, for that is our Fate!
You’re way out of line, your ideas are all wrong,
Let us substitute misery and hate.

For this is the price that you have to pay
To maintain OUR greatest ideal:
Democracy’s easy when done our strange way -
Just trample on others and steal!

JCMT

Kenya tracks Facebook, Twitter for election ‘hate speech’

Kenya tracks Facebook, Twitter for election ‘hate speech’

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