They all say he is a saint
I say he just uses paint
To cover the constant taint
He is the devil’s agent

He seems to think he’s immune
We will set up a tribune
He’s destroyed our commune
And gathered a fortune

We won’t let it slide by
Cus someone thinks we’re shy
We’ll get him, even if we’ve to fly
No business that is shady and sly

We will not lie
Or on our backs lie
We’ll take part of the pie
We’ll them all defy!

Tha Scribbler


What is this state?
But hell’s own gate
Cus all they do is hate
Using religion as bait
And then call it fate
They’ve no faith
Islam is coming late
Has neither partner nor mate

They go round dropping bombs
In big cities and slumps
We need to search with a comb
And put them in a tomb

They our religion tarnish
Them and their allies banish
They bring nothing but blemish
Proof we need not furnish
All we need is to them punish
Their method is fetish

They think it’s a game
To us they bring shame
But they seek only fame
Using Islam’s name
With excuses lame
What a shame!

Tha Scribbler


We will always jump
Into the new dump
If you give us a pump
There we will slump

We don’t say no
Even if we know
That it\s just for show
And that we won’t grow

We are all passive
Never will be active
But we will be vindictive
Our goals we will achieve

You tell us stories of yore
Sucking our blood like the ‘yoo’
But we will one day restore
Our dignity and honour
Cus you have become a bore

You have us failed
Most of us you jailed
While some you hailed
Some had to be bailed

What shall we do with you
We will surely make you rue
We will all together you sue
We will not give you a clue
Or even a time cue!

Tha Scribbler

Wrong Place at the Wrong Time

She paced the corridor of the prison for the umpteenth time trying to make sense of the information she had but couldn’t put the facts right. It was Tuesday, 13 February and her second visit to the State Central Prison in as many days, yet she still had more questions than answers. It seemed that anytime Biram answered a question, a whole set of questions popped into her head. Haddy Jobe was a lawyer who’d been hired to represent Biram, a gentleman Rastafarian who claimed to have been arrested during an armed robbery. He claimed to be completely innocent and that it was just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Biram was a truly gentleman despite the fact that he’d dreadlocks. He was a teetotaler and didn’t even smoke wee or even cigarettes. He was just in love with the Rastafarian culture and that explained dreadlocks. Initially, he did not intend to go out on that day, but when his girlfriend insisted that he buy her a phone, he acquiesced.
Biram had gone to the Lebanese shop to buy a phone for his girlfriend. He was in the middle of the transaction when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man he used to work with. He owed this man a lot of money and therefore was afraid that if he saw him he’d ask him to pay. That he could not let happen. He pulled down his cap to disguise his appearance. When he had paid and received his brand new Nokia phone and was just about to depart, he heard the commotion and turned to see armed men pushing and shoving customers around in the shop.
“All of you get down on the floor,” he heard a voice command them.
He stood still and refused to obey because he knew that his problems could not be any worse. He watched them harass and jostle the salespersons in the shop. He looked around and saw a backdoor which was slightly ajar. He pushed his way through and was in the toilet area where he sat down to wait it out. He was there for almost a quarter of an hour, or so it seemed to him. Then he heard the police siren wafting louder by the second.
It must be safe to go out now, he thought. Unfortunately, when he came out, he was arrested along with the armed robbers. He tried as much as possible to tell them that he was not a part of it but to no avail. It didn’t help that he was wearing his cap in a way that hid his features. He was frisked along with all the others and haplessly for him; his gun was found in the jacket, more salt to the injury.
They were all charged with armed robbery and disturbance of the peace. A day later, his problem exacerbated when the salesperson that was shot in the incident died of his gunshot wounds. How on earth will Haddy Jobe, good lawyer as she was, exonerate Biram from this quagmire!

a) Find a word or phrase which can take the place of the following words as used in the passage.
i) umpteenth ii) acquiesced iii) jostle iv) exacerbated
ii) v) exonerate vi) quagmire
b) On which date did Haddy Jobe visit the accused first?
c) Was Biram guilty of armed robbery?
iii) Quote a sentence to support your answer.
d) What made Biram look guiltier?
e) Why did Biram have dreadlocks?
f) … that..
What does the word that mean as used in the second paragraph?
g) . . . more salt to the injury
i) What literary device is employed by the writer in the above extract?
ii) What does it mean?
h) . . . to buy a phone for his girlfriend
i) What grammatical name is given to the extract above?
iii) What is its function?