Oh Ger Caesar Mijoro — Child of Two Worlds
Oh Ger Caesar Mijoro,
firstborn son of Africa,
child of Kenya’s red soil and endless skies—
why did you leave us so quietly,
so mysteriously,
with questions heavier than our tears?
A void now stands where your laughter once lived,
so vast that even oceans of sorrow cannot fill it.
Yes, the grass withers,
and the flowers fade,
yet still we ask—
child of Kenya,
why so sudden?
You lived hard.
You lived silent.
A thinker shaped by distance and depth,
a man who knew two worlds,
two homes,
two ways of belonging.
You carried Africa in your blood
and America in your stride—
rooted in one land,
embraced by another.
So much you kept to yourself—
unspoken thoughts,
private burdens—
but did you know?
Did you see?
Did you feel how deeply you were loved
on both sides of the ocean?
Oh Caesar, son of the soil,
your work here is done.
The journey is complete.
No more editing.
No more revisions.
Your final chapter has been written
by a hand greater than ours.
And yet we remain—
stunned, unmoored,
heartbroken in the echo of your absence.
You are gone,
and the world feels quieter,
as if it, too, is holding its breath.
Thank you for loving us
in the best way you knew how.
My big brother—
without you, we feel lost,
searching the horizon
for a familiar silhouette
that will not return.
You brought us friends in multitudes,
woven connections that crossed borders and time.
Your touch reached farther
than you ever knew—
into lives you shaped,
hearts you softened,
paths you altered without a word.
And know this, beloved—
your wishes will be upheld.
You will rest in the land that embraced you,
the place where you built, endured,
and made a life.
Though your body lies on American soil,
Africa still claims you,
and Kenya will forever call your name.
Your earthly light may be out,
but your candle still burns—
in memory,
in shared stories,
in the love that refuses to fade.
Rest now, child of two worlds.
Rest in peace, at home,
held by the land you chose
and the people who will never let you go.
— Your Baby Sis, Michele