Joseph's Wars

Due to escalating violence arising after the general elections,
Joseph has fled his country, the CAR, for the third time.
Courtesy: UNHCR

Creeping

Like a thief

In the still of the night,

They sped under the starlit

Central African sky.

Sprinting not for the calling

Of the coveted Olympic prize

But for the mortal privilege

Of witnessing another, be it cold, night.

Theirs is a heart-wrenching

Suicidal, sickening story.

Once was it said

But thrice have I heard,

A young man fled home

Not for a crime of his own

Making

But for the volent awakening

That rocked a nation off her heels.

Peace spat in his face

With the sound of gunshot sprays.

'It's the third time. I am tired,'

Joseph says, and his situation is dire.

What is the measure of hate required

To turn on an encore bloodletting?

And whence is the streams of healing

For the afflicted?

My people

Are marked for death

And their chronicle

Is as fuel for the hearth.

Akpan