They taught us respect
in the key of silence,
said truth must wait its turn
until elders finish being comfortable.
We learned to bow our questions,
to fold doubt into politeness,
to call fear good manners.
But even drums grow weary
of praising broken dances.
Grey hair does not own wisdom,
nor titles the tongue of God.
Some lies grow old
because no one stands.
Jethro spoke.
Nathan dared.
Paul refused polite error.
Truth has always needed courage.
I have watched wrong
inherit chairs at the front,
seen injustice age gracefully
behind borrowed honor.
If respect asks me
to be quiet while harm breathes,
then I choose the rudeness of truth.
I will speak —
not to wound,
not to rebel,
but to restore.
For silence is a sound too,
and it has betrayed us before.
Joseph Kioko is a literature scholar in Kenyatta University, passionate in written art. His writing, often steeped in deep philosophical reflection, serves to educate and challenge African stereotypes.