When you do business in Africa you must abide by the rules of the land. The rules that forbid the disturbance of the peace and beauty of the soil your forefathers ruled for ions. This is a challenge when western money wants to rape the beauty to get to the heart of the minerals that make everyone rich.
Everyone, but the cow herder that watches and waits.
It is here were traditions meet foreign customs.
Where accents and ceremonies collide
The slaughter of a cow to appease the gods
And safe the lives of the innocent
Rhythmic beating of Njembe drums
Ululating voices
White foreign faces in fire light
And just sometimes the coffee coloured eyes
Of a village boy
Shaking hands with the foreigner
Spanning the bridge
Risking his inheritance
For himself?
Or the future of his family?
Ahh the tension
‘she is tangible my darling, tangible’
But if you promise us and you do not deliver
Your house and family will burn
Burn
Burn
Because in this village you were born
We have dug your graves with you
Celebrated your births
Slaughtered your cows
So we watch
And we wait
To see
1 comment:
This is sadly beautiful.
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