My Rotting Land Poem by konye ori

I am from a land;
a land where blood is shed over air and water.
From a land where rain and shine enter our shelters uninvited

I am from a land;
a land where the squeaking sounds of a starving stomach is a familiar tune
where the cry of an infant is a daily anthem.
A land where the wails of war are but old hymns

I am from a land;
a land where the covetous hands of diseases, are offered a hand shake

I am from a land;
a land where we seat by the fire side to sing and cry
as the people in power dance away to our anvil-chorus.
A land where hardship had made ‘Avarice’ a choice garment maker for the leaders


I am from a land;
that land where tomorrow is as dark as the starless night
Bedridden with scabies and its rot, eating away its glory

when all around her is herbs and ointment

I am from a land
I kneel by and call on with ache
Africa! Africa! Africa!