Let me
remind you first that war is no joking matter
War is
thinking of home with such piercing pain that the nothingness of a stranger’s
place found in the strangest of places appeals to the numbing emptiness that
provides the only room for rest
It is the
stories of seen but unspoken evil refugees and the stranded many carry heavy on
their chests praying to whatever they can bring themselves to believe in that
it should never again manifest
War is what
breaks a man’s soul when he does the most questionable just to exorcise what
little control he has over a situation that draws his family to its knees
It’s a woman
whose dignity is stolen from her even in the discomfort of her abode so her
entire family sees
How does she
heal herself in time to teach her little girl who suffered the same episode
before she begins to see herself as nothing more than just a wet hole?
War takes the
penis of a barely teenage boy out of his hands and puts a gun in its stead so
in his head a finger on a trigger is how to masturbate
War is these
ugly truths told to you straight without much room to exaggerate.
It is no
specific target of gun shots and indiscreet slaughtering in the streets.
In Sierra
Leone, they ignored pleas and grieves before they cleaved arms like branches
off trees and blood dripped down helplessly like leaves
The
dismemberment of another flesh and blood was reduced to the levity of long or
short sleeves
Rwanda saw
800,000 killed within a span of one hundred days, that’s eight thousand humans
a day, three hundred and thirty-three an hour
Six lives
devoured a minute worsens the taste of what’s already sour all in the name of so-called
power
The falling rain
itself came to be a reminder to the people of Liberia that they were under attack
In 1990 the heaven’s
cries met gun powder in the skies so when it poured down, the water was black
There are
media footages from DR Congo, Somalia, Burkina Faso, all publicly accessible but
remember not all the details were archived
Many of us
will go deprived of the sordid reality lived by many of those who survived.
All die be
die be lie to the living
When you’re given
the displeasure of seeing the spirit of your loved one escape him and the
emotion your feel first is hatred before you even get the chance to mourn
And know now
that war knows no age so even babies fall victim before they’re born
War is
missing brothers, fathers, sisters, mothers and lovers better off assumed dead
because your soul is just too weary for hope to beget
War is me at
twenty-five, seventeen years after my family got out alive convincing myself
the object that flew unrecognized by my eye wasn’t a bullet
The one I
believe I had seen, eight years old locked in my neighbor’s tight room with
steel doors because that was our definition of a safe haven
Rebels a few
years older than me trapping two dozen of us due to our fear of what they could
do with an AK47
That kind of
fear grows with a child’s imagination so there’s no more telling what’s real
and unreal regardless of what truth is revealed
My truth is
what eyesore my mind told me my eyes saw
War is me
still too scared or angry at the nightmare to ask what we were fighting for.
Wars are the
singular cause of the mental deconstruction of a people with no therapy to
their tragedy
They are a
sadist’s feast of rape, murder, cannibalism, abuse and everything tragic
The human
comparison to the ugliness of the foretold black magic
War brings
out the evil side of evil and is its own justification of immorality
War is the
unnatural decomposition of humanity
The sensitivity
of this issue is paralyzing without a doubt
So please
don’t make light of this because war my dear people, is nothing to joke about.
