From motherland where sirens are war planes and tankers trains

The ambulances, battle bullets and blasting bombs

And medics, the vulgar murderous militias or the selfless slaying soldiers

All in one mission, to rush, to rush these souls to the other side

And blood flows like fluids from floods, long like snaking Nile

Congealing congenially beside the killing like a man and his best friend 

Children bathe in raid bloods and mothers’ wombs open immaturely

Girls break their sanctity in the frenzy and the fuzzy mess

Boys get their first neurosurgery in the haze

Fathers! Fathers becomes fleshy shields that stops bullets

From penetrating their fond families and found friends

And queues, long like Moses’s Exodus fast forms slithering

Snaking to where there can be safety-mostly Kakuma and Dadaab

And here, here life shattered and scattered begins to recollect and regroup

A girl without a father to early marriages, a boy without a mother to petty crimes

Here it becomes like at the tower of Babel-brothers speaking Kinyarwanda

Sister spitting Lingala, grandmas chatting and shouting in Amharic

Grandpa speaking to himself in Buganda and Franco

Here in motherland where rains are flying ruins from shellers

And heat, putrid and pungent haze from masses of human rots

And oxygen, that contaminated air perfumed with litters of more fleshly felled flesh

Here, here in motherland where brothers turn animals, and good neighbours-enemies

In a single shading of the night and a bright lighting of the light!


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