Nachdem sich gestern der Inhalt meines Ipods mitsamt aller bisherigen geführten Interviews in Luft aufgelöst hat, ist mir heute nicht nach viel Schreiben zu Mute. Deshalb wähle ich die Form eines kurzen Gedichtes, um meinen Beobachtungen Ausdruck zu verleihen, geschrieben auf der Fahrt zum Büro :-) Hey, white boy!
You took us out as slaves,
Away from our homes.
Just to send us to this place
After breaking our bones.
Our country is a mess
No food
No school
No water to access
…we couldn’t have much less
On our Lion hill
We have a town of free
Right next to the sea…
In the British High Commission
They drink a cup of tea
Whilst the most of we
Cannot pay the bill
To survive, we struggle every day
Just to eat some rice
But there simply is no way
With this crazy price
We offer you a place to stay
Cook you food and wash your clothes
For the future that may
At least raise our hopes
But then, white boy You turn us down…
Just after our relationship has grown
You go and take a student loan
We cannot hide the tears
From this,
…we could have lived for years,
But now, again, we’re on our own.
We’ve been here for years
But never could recover
From our daily fears
Of one another
Our heart is empty
There is nothing left for trust
The only thing we have is iron will
But what we get is far from just.
We never chose to kill
Please,
don’t make it something that we must.
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