The lion of Trans Nzoia.

In the heart of the Rift, where harvests rise,

Stands a leader unshaken, with fearless eyes.

His words, like thunder, shake the land,

Not of whispers nor shadows—he speaks to stand,

A force untamed in the storm of change.

Natembeya walks where roads were once but dust,

Laying paths of stone, rebuilding trust.

Schools rise where silence grew,

The young now dream in colors new,

For futures shaped by steady hands.

The corridors of power know his tread,

A voice that echoes where few have dared.

Truth, a spear he casts with might,

Scattering those who shun the light,

Unbowed, untamed, a lion's call.

The fields of Trans Nzoia sing his name,

In markets bustling, in farmers' gain.

Water flows where thirst once burned,

Bridges span where rivers turned,

And progress marches on his path.

Yet foes conspire in hushed retreat,

For fear his steps, too bold, too fleet.

They tremble at his piercing gaze,

No lies endure beneath its blaze,

As he carves the future unafraid.

O Kenya, behold the road ahead!

A fire of change where doubts have fled.

A beacon fierce, unchained, unbowed,

Rising high above the crowd,

The lion roars—his time has come,

George Natembeya, walking the talk!

©Bunguswa™