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Rebecca, oh Rebecca, Rebecca
When you pass by my home,Rebecca
On your way to the river, Rebecca
Please try to whistle,Rebecca
Or sometimes call my name.

When you see me standing by the road
Do not shy away, Rebecca
My heart yearns to speak,speak to Rebecca
And even when the sun sets, Rebecca
I always stand by the road, watching you pass by

Rebecca, My eyes watch you sway hips
My mouth gapes, as you take each step
Mama, Rebecca, should I remind you
Rebecca, that it is love, not illusions?
I'm growing older, and, Rebecca, 
I want you as a wife, you Rebecca

Rebecca, I am not a coward, they say
I fought the War of the Whites,
Rebecca, as the song of the poets goes
With a spear on hand, Rebecca, 
I, myself, chopped the white man's head
Of these tales, I am not bragging, Rebecca

Rebecca, when you pass by my home
Please knock and say hello
Rebecca, my hands are tired of fighting
My hands yearn to touch the soft skin
Rebecca, not anyone's, Your skin Rebecca

Rebecca, pass by home tomorrow
Colour my walls with your beauty
Light my hut with your smile, Rebecca
Come Rebecca, See, I am strong and handsome
Hardworking and brave
Rebecca, a suitable husband for a suitable wife

Rebecca, oh Rebecca, Rebecca
The moon of the village, 
Rebecca, the one with stars in the eyes
Who will marry you Rebecca?
Tell me, if you don't stop by my home
And say hello, Rebecca, oh Rebecca.

©Lewis Wamwanda

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    Lewis Wamwanda is a poet and novelist, born in Eldoret Kenya in the late 90's and is a student at Kisii University pursuing Bachelor Of Education, English and Literature. He began His writing back in 2009 while He was in Class Four His greatest motivation is the society at large.

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