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Not my business.....

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Not my business.....

Post by Balearicdreams on Wed Nov 13, 2013 1:14 pm

Hey, there is a strong feeling of frustration going on our facebook page at the moment. Of course it is frustrating because we are ahead of the prevalent culture. We are innovators, following in the same footsteps as so many humanitarians before us but against a new tide of humans- the apathetic, the ignorant, the scared. Sadly, you have to think of every human being you meet as somebody damaged. They need love and care to get their humanity back as it has been stripped away since the day they were born. It's not an impossible task, just share things that melt your heart with these people and find common ground. Perhaps they are an animal lover, perhaps they have children. Take this piece of humanity and ask them to transfer it to others- other people like them and other people who are different to them. If we can all just get everybody to realise that we are interconnected, and that one persons oppression means that nobody is free, that one persons hunger means we all starve... we are all separate individuals but we are together in this world as one. Anyway, I think this below poem reflects the mood!

Not my business- by Niyi Osundare

They picked Akanni up one morning
Beat him soft like clay
And stuffed him down the belly
Of a waiting jeep.
What business of mine is it
So long they don't take the yam
From my savouring mouth?

They came one night
Booted the whole house awake
And dragged Danladi out,
Then off to a lengthy absence.
What business of mine is it
So long they don't take the yam
From my savouring mouth?

Chinwe went to work one day
Only to find her job was gone:
No query, no warning, no probe -
Just one neat sack for a stainless record.
What business of mine is it
So long they don't take the yam
From my savouring mouth?

And then one evening
As I sat down to eat my yam
A knock on the door froze my hungry hand.
The jeep was waiting on my bewildered lawn
Waiting, waiting in its usual silence.

The poet said, ‘African poets have no choice but to be
political in their work :
‘You cannot keep quiet about the situation in the
kind of countries we find ourselves in'

Hope you felt a resonance with this poem!

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