Abagana was the ground on which we learnt
The bitter language of death and pain
And contributed our blood to the dirt of the earth
Like manure for the ground that gives birth
To the food that strengthens our health
I was a human being like you blinded by
The twists and turns of my native tongue –
Hate tied our lips and our guns spoke on our behalf
Sputtering insults at each other from our barrels,
We sent innocent young boys to their early graves
And boosted the international ranking of old policy makers.
A young man returning to his family after the war,
His body painted with blood and mud from the trenches
Where he watched his brothers die;
And as he marched towards his home he wondered
If his children would recognize the monster he now was,
He thought of his wife and wondered if she was still alive
He thought of his mother and hoped she did not give up on him
And join their ancestors.
Years have traveled by since we first danced the dance of madness
And exchanged bullets for Christmas and Eid and Independence celebrations
And we have healed from the wounds on our torsos and in our wombs
And from the wounds on our hearts and in our minds
And some of us have learnt to move on with the memories of lost ones
And loved ones lost to the cold hands of death ☠ – it hasn’t been easy –
Now, you come here to this joyous concert singing a a solemn dirge
Now you come to our literary gatherings with elegies of impending pain
And your letters are threats of a war about to explode –
You come armed with assault rifles and propaganda
With false teachings and mantra
But we will not give in to you wiles this time
Because we have learnt that the child who plays with fire
Will always be burnt by fire
And we have realized that there is more strength in love
Than there is in war equipments.
– ccbenji
