By Shem Onderi
In the mining tunnel
The tunnel meanders, miles and miles
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You can count the miles the tunnel covers
So tiny is the passing area
In the tunnel there is little joy
Few conversations, few rest sessions
It’s not conducive for talk
There is little freedom working in the tunnels
The miners excavate the soil, dig with intent to mine
Only signals say when it’s ready to pull up
Little lamps guide the miners
Through the tunnels
Frail pieces of tree hold the soil up
The miners dig all day, all night
Oxygen containers remain useful
They hold life under
Eating time may not be enjoyable, anyway
Eating time is inadequate
Sometime, the holding ground may misbehave
Loosen up and cover the tunnel
Close it all together. Chaos
A miner dying under is nothing new
The body will be retrieved after work, maybe
After a day mining, with life risks
Pay time comes, though not pleasant
Not commensurate to risks
But man must work and earn, and live
