Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Ipalamwa, Ipalamwa
Under a cloudless sky
Ipalamwa, Ipalamwa
To know you we shall try.

Ipalamwa, Ipalamwa
In the rolling hill abide
Ipalamwa, Ipalamwa
With the Master on your side.

Ipalamwa, Ipalamwa
Your voices make us strong
Ipalamwa, Ipalamwa
We’ll remember every song.

Ipalamwa, Ipalamwa
Your courage lifts us up
Ipalamwa, Ipalamwa
To you we raise a cup.

Ipalamwa, Ipalamwa
Your children bring us cheer
Ipalamwa, Ipalamwa
May God keep your pathway clear.

Ipalamwa, Ipalamwa
With warmth and patience pure
Ipalamwa, Ipalamwa
Of your future we are sure.

Ipalamwa, Ipalamwa
So much that we could say
Ipalamwa, Ipalamwa
In our hearts you’ll always stay.



Ellymark, Ellymark
As engaging as can be
Ellymark, Ellymark
Is a Wanderer you see.

The Troubadour was with us
To his voice our hearts do swell
He dances oh so lightly
His name is Fanuel.

Who can cap the DJ?
With ever a sideways glance
He slouches near our doorway
Evan’s presence not by chance.

Macombe towers ‘re us
He heeds our every call
His manner is quite formal
He’s a Statesman to us all.

There’s something about a number
That touches something sore
That Nickson would be mighty
By wearing Number 4.

If you listen closely
And bend an ear aplenty
You may just hear the Whisperer
“I’m the headmaster, Mheni.”

The Princess

The Princess is pretty
The Princess is neat
She’s all about Gigabytes
And no time to eat.

Her speech is quite rapid
Her opinions are many
Of things she’s not sure of
There aren’t very many.

She sleeps in her nest
With no pea to disturb
Just send her an email
With any new blurb.

The kids just adore her
With happy face squeals
They cluster around her
As she kicks up her heels.

The Friendly Neighbor

Friendly Neighbor Roger
An easygoing chap
He takes to bed quite early
And favors a PM nap.

He walks along quite slowly
With a student or two in tow
He helps them with their math
The parts they do not know.

He’s ever the quiet American
But shares a few neat tales
Of places where he’s served
He hasn’t been to Wales.

He tries to keep us focused
On the true Tanzanian way
Just don’t be in a hurry
We’ll get it done some day.

The Talking Machine

Whoever has heard
Of a Talking Machine
Needs to meet Elli
With questions so keen.

She doles out the sweets
And writes stories to tell
She gets right up close
With the kids she is swell.

She makes every point
At least twice or times four
She pounds on the table
And stomps on the floor.

She wants to get right
The email and such
She wants to make sure
Not to get into Dutch.

The Singing Poet

That Bill is our poet
Is an exaggerated thing
About all he’ll confess
Is that he likes to sing.

He seems rather quiet
And stares into space
He likes to observe
And study you face.

He sometimes surprises
Or just goes along
At Saturday prayers
He offered a song.

He likes to take walks
And wander or not
He’ll best be recalled
For the suicide knot.

Queen Bee

Mama Toni, Mama Toni
It’s not hard to see
Why we couldn’t resist
Naming her Queen Bee.

She sits on her stool
So proper and prim
And fixes great meals
Fills our plates to the rim.

She whacked up a chicken
For the Bishop to feast
He ate while he talked
The gizzard not the least.

Each Sunday for church
She lights up the sky
Our darling Queen Bee
Is a rare butterfly.

The Man

Mohamed’s “The Man”
We can’t do without
Throughout the long drive
We saw not a pout.

At the airport he told us
He had a fine figure
And we’d sure know Harran
Since his figure was bigger.

You mush watch him close
For his twinkle and smile
To know when he’s kidding
May take a long while.

He taught us Swahili
And threw in some Hehe
A quite useful phrase
For us is “Kam wene”.

Big Fish

Who would have thought
In a land that’s so dry
That we’d find a Big Fish
Who’s a marvelous guy.

He shuffles along
The red, dusty road
And suffers our questions
Despite his heavy load.

He runs interference
With teachers and all
He’s always right there
When we give him a call.

He’s a teacher with soul
And likes a good laugh
We can always be sure
He’s on the right path.