Nightmare in Paradise: Four for Four wahala!
Those days, when
The roar of the Lion Mountain would be
heard in the whole world
and the echoes would be felt in the veins of the nearest
neighbours
Those days, when
Sierra Leone would play, dance, sing and sleep in green
grass after her travail on the virgin land of her ancestors
She would play, dance, sing and sleep with green snakes
that would drag themselves to the listless banjo-players
who would execute their artistic adroitness under the
baobab tree
where everyone would sit around a wild fire telling their yarns
Those days, when
Innocent children would play hide-and-seek
while the moon would shine on their innocent lives
and the fireflies would illuminate their
lives when the moon disappeared in the horizon of ambiguity
and their mothers would shout them into their beds
having seen the night running into daybreak
Those days, when
When women were women and desired by men who deserved them
and men would cherish women clad in lappas or minis
whilst women would desire men in Gun Mots or Prins Nicos
Those days, when
Sierra Leone would lick her last fingers more than four times a day
while greedy outsiders would envy mama Salone for
her vigour, love, underground riches
and everything that made a being human
These days, when
We clamour for the sun to throw light again into our
paradise and long for the sun to light up our hopes,
empty endeavours, and displeasures
These days, when
We dance and sing for the sun day in day out
to brighten our roads and journeys
to the belly of Sierra Leone
These days, when
The licking of the last finger is no-longer square
in a large part of Sierra Leone but
a frequent happening in a selected part
of Sierra Leone where sticky behemoths
live on the empty purses of the
penurious children of Lion Mountain
These days, when
The Agenda for Change has changed the lives of a few
and worsened those of many while we continue
to yearn for prosperity under a new unprosperous
agenda for poverty alleviation
and the Four for Four wahala has brought untold suffering to
the children of Mama Salone.
These days, when
Guns and machetes which are carried by
many with accustomed ease
drive away the cohesion that held us together
and with unkind relish eat like a hungry
lion into the fabric of societal lazy Mama Lion
Today,
The sun scorches our houses, hopes, endeavours, pleasures
and throws dust on our roads and journeys
and leads us to hungry Sierra Leone
where suspicious global teeth gnaw at the
long cherished joie de vive of Mama Salone
Will the sun ever stop letting the green grass
from withering and bring back those days when
Sierra Lyoa wallowed in blissful prosperity?
By Mohamed Kunowah Kiellow, The Netherlands (in photo).
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