By Anthony Muiruri
Oh my, you’re our friend,
And we really understand,
Yours aren’t veiled interests,
For a bag of reasons.
To our despots and regimes, you don’t sell arms,
To wipe out dissidents,
Who obscure your path to our resources,
And you protect our markets and industries,
From your cheap sub standard products,
You never give tea to win tenders,
To build us roads, railways and ports,
You do so purely on competitiveness,
That’s according to our tyrants.
I like your package of goodies,
You give and don’t make demands,
Surely there’re no attached strings,
You especially keep off my affairs.
Over time you’ve metamorphosed,
Into more than a mermaid,
Your head is communist,
But the body is capitalist.
Back home you guarantee the freedom of the Tibetans,
The Independence of the Taiwanese,
And as well the Hongkongese
Internally you respect the minorities,
And the han don’t dominate others.
In New York, you defend me not for convenience,
You do so to advance justice,
If I outlive my usefulness you don’t abstain,
My cause is ever your pain.