I praise you because of my poverty,

I’m a beggar because of my poverty,

I can’t talk more because of my poverty,

I’m poor

And I have nothing

I work on your yard to get something

My poverty fools me

Bad names people rain on me

Young rich people, like a baby they treat me

As black as charcoal I have become

All these things because of my poverty

Poverty betrays me like Judas,

when I get things people feel jealous

People don’t allow me to chill with them

They always say that I have a bad smell like “Kanyimbi”

But one day things will be alright

And I will go to Nyika Plateu to enjoy myself

My poverty keeps me silent

When they’ve done bad things to me I don’t talk

Because they feed me

And they are my donors

I don’t eat food I wish

I don’t visit places where I wish

My solution is just to smoke “wish”

For I don’t have diplomas and degrees

For a good job