09/10/2025
“I Am Agĩkũyũ — The Mountain Never Bows”
I… am Agĩkũyũ.
Born from soil that knows sweat,
from the ridges of Mt. Kenya —
where wind hums lullabies of survival.
I am the child of a farmer,
the echo of my ancestors’ calloused hands.
I am not alone.
I have a brother — Ameru.
I have a sister — Aembu.
Three souls,
three hearts,
one mountain — one destiny.
We’ve got cousins too…
Akamba, the trader of long-distance dreams,
Abaluhya, the farmer whose hands grow life from dust.
And neighbours we love —
Luo, Gusii, Kalenjin, Rendille, Turkana…
We break bread,
we share borders,
we share laughter,
we share pain.
But sometimes, my heart bleeds… 💔
Because behind some smiles,
lies envy.
Behind some handshakes,
lies hate.
They call me tribalist!
Just because I stand with my blood.
Just because I back Rigathi Gachagua,
the heir to our mountain throne.
Yet ........
When Kalenjins back William Ruto, they’re called loyal.
When Luos stand with Raila Odinga, they’re called steadfast.
When Gusiis rally behind Fred Matiang’i, they’re called brave.
When Akamba follow Kalonzo,
When Abaluhya lift Natembeya,
they’re celebrated.
But when the mountain stands together,
suddenly —
we are the villains.
We are the tribalists.
We are the ones to blame.
Tell me…
Is it a crime to love our own?
Is it jealousy that fuels your hatred?
Or is it the pain of watching us rise
again, and again, and again —
from every storm?
We wake early,
we work hard,
we turn stones into homes,
dust into business,
pain into progress.
We multiply not because we want to take —
but because life flows freely in our veins.
We don’t occupy — we belong.
We don’t dominate — we build.
But still,
they spit insults on our names.
They call us arrogant, proud, ungrateful.
Yet all we ever wanted —
was respect.
Just respect.
For our unity is not hate —
it’s heritage.
Our pride is not division —
it’s identity.
Our loyalty is not tribal —
it’s ancestral!
So call us what you
