Don’t tell me never to cry
For I do it to take the poison out of my system
Don’t tell me I have to try
to be me because I’ve all the while been doing it to the extreme
Still I fail because my trails still take me back to the memories
Memories of far-reaching difficulties
Memories of massive dead bodies
Recollections of dead family members and relatives
Memories of hurtful pains
Moments of flowing tears and unending sorrow
No comfortable brain
No one to lead so that we could follow
We had no direction;
We had no hope
All the while been in that tribulation;
With which it was difficult to cope
What could we have done?
On whose trunks could we have held?
How couldn’t we have gone;
if they all wanted us in hell?
that gave us too much difficulties;
in our entire life journey;
and roped many to become casualties.
The sorrow cuts more painfully than canes
There was nothing we could to take away the pains
But only to conform to the afflictions that had already befallen us
Thinking that perhaps the almighty had already forsaken us
People lost their lives, people lost properties
But what could we have done to stop that? Nothing.
The rebels knew no mercy.
They killed without leniency
Wherever they go,
they were known of killing, looting, raping, pillaging, torching dwellings and so much more.
They never looked at us as human beings
Oh tears stained our faces
Education was no more
Medical services were no more
The plenty we had down home there was no more
The kraals which were full of livestock were razed down
Empty kraals and blazed abodes
Had to converge in the IDP camps;
which were well known of scarcities
We were subjected to all those
Sleeping in the bushes for fears of being burned inside our huts
Stings of mosquitoes were nothing and didn’t hurt
Children wandering on the streets and night commuters sleeping under verandas in town centers for fear of being killed
On taking a crack to flee the gruesome deaths
from the unwelcomed viciousness of the murderous,
Vehicles taking people away from the war zone
were shot and burned with the passengers in them
Planes carrying people away were shot and burned
People in great number died. We cried.
We cried because the trouble was painful beyond bearing
Our government, religious leaders and political leaders
Struggled to ensure the tribulation was brought to an end
At last; we didn’t only hear from tale or history;
that the war had come to a point of vanquish
But saw with our eyes, heard with our ears
and felt that we were finally at ease.
But again we came to know what it felt like
to live in the post conflict zone
Getting back to the life we had before was a tag of war
Going back to the original villages from which we came
They had all turned into bushes
Land disputes emerged
Landmines which were previously set during the war period
became another source of death and physical damages
Poor health services as well led to the death of some people.
The village folks again and again died
Children were left orphans, women left widows and men left widowers
But all away, we managed to live in the squalor till today
This peom is about a woman in my life, who is suppose to be there for me but is not.
This poem is about our failure to feel fulfilled by our constant consumption of life.
Read it and find out.