AND STILL WE DIE
By Mathew K. Jallow
I see distraught and grimacing faces
Bloodshot eyes can cry no more
But yesterday, the tears rained down her face
And still there is no answer, no closure
Now only more questions, more anguish
I heard a child's gentle tap on mama's lap
I want my daddy, where is my daddy? She asks
Will daddy ever come home; even mama doesnt know
A child doomed to never hug a beloved daddy again
And still we die
I hear the muffled cries from the distant forest
And the spirits meeting under the big baobab tree
A menacing darkness that will not reveal its secrets
The crackle of a gun and the gentle thud of death
A slumped head, and a final crash to the ground
I see the shadows at the
edge of the thick woods
And I wish I could be a fly on the wall there
To see dead bodies piled high; waiting for a grave
A whole country too fearful; and saying nothing
And still we die
The torture and the dying still unrelenting
I
see a country cracking ruggedly at the seams
Too much pain, and too many wounds to heal
As each day passes, many more deeper wounds to heal
Unimaginable cruelty borne out by much death and dying
I see fragmented pieces of human souls
Mothers, fathers, sons and daughters stare listless
Just to ask is a taboo; to question is a death sentence
Everyone knows the dying, yet no one dares to
ask
And still we die
Last night I saw death's menacing march
When the moon sank and the cocks don't
crow
I heard the chilling hooting of owls in the darkness
Where fear was stalking the night for a victim
And pure evil in human flesh, owning the night
We thought we knew those young men; but do we?
Were they the hungry little kids in the dirty rags?
How quickly they have grown and changed into monsters
Now they own the night and stalk the darkness for a kill
And still we die
We had no chance to say our last goodbyes to our beloved
But we cried for you Deida, yes we did
We sobbed for you Koro; till we had no more tears to shed
And you Makolo, and you Daba, and you and you and you
While you are there take care of our beloved school children
Shelter them well, for their short lives give us a purpose
Now a broken nation, but an unbending resolve
I see a dark storm gathering on the horizon
I hear the echoes of freedom in every soul, every heartbeat
And still we die.
When tomorrow comes the air will be different
There will be unrestrained joy throughout the land
We will gather the broken souls, the broken bones
To rebuild our land, and give freedom a voice
We will build monuments of stone and marble to our dead
And dedicate our streets and schools to your memories
But we will solemnly honor the grave of our fallen beloved
To read their names in Essau, in Mansajang, in Nawleru and everywhere
As our hearts ache for our nation, we take up the fight
Until we will die no more.