By Peter Kidi in Kakuma
This poem us born from life in a refugee camp, but they speak to experiences shared by displaced communities everywhere. This and other ones to come explore the tension between hope and hunger; between the promises of programmes and the realities of daily survival; between policies designed to help and the barriers they sometimes create. Each poem reflects on the ways that procedures, categorizations, and assumptions intersect with human lives, showing how families, children, and youth navigate systems often blind to their needs.
At the heart of these pieces is a simple truth: The experience of displacement is not only about survival, but also about dignity, creativity, and resilience. These poems are testimony, witness, and inquiry. They ask what it means to be seen, to be included, and to be allowed to dream – even in the midst of scarcity. While each poem focuses on a particular aspect of camp life – hunger, representation, market access, bureaucratic labels – they are united by a larger question: How can hope flourish when structures meant to protect fail to recognize the fullness of the human experience?
This poem explores how business training programmes often speak the language of opportunity, of entrepreneurship, of sustainability, and investment. But for many of us in camps like Kakuma in Northeastern Kenya , survival itself is the only business we know.
They gave her a notebook,
lined with promises,
a pen heavy with hope,
and words like “business plan,
market access, sustainability.”
She sat in the training hall,
counting profit margins
while her brother at home
counted his ribs.
“Invest in growth,” they said,
but her siblings had nothing left
to invest except silence,
their stomachs growling
louder than the facilitator’s voice.
What future do you plant
when today’s soil is dry,
when hunger eats the seed
before it touches the ground?
She dreams of green fields,
hands full of harvest,
a market where customers smile.
But reality is a ration card
that buys less each month,
a promise that feeds tomorrow
while today goes unfed.
They call her entrepreneur,
but she knows the truth
she is only trying
to buy time,
trading empty lessons
for one more breath,
hoping tomorrow
does not bury today.
