In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

43 QUIET, ALMOST SAD Being a favourite son of the West He rules this country just like pest Let Cameroon sing as they play Playing for her love to delay A union made in who knows where Needs not be forced down here and there For freedom’s sake, fall prison walls Exhibiting their lack of balls Flagging shameful flag of horror Boiling steam our guts with furore Like Samson’s to put on some dread And save this suffering lot from death Freezing life quiet and sad almost In pitch darkness by their lamp post The West have rosily painted bright In vain attempt to shun our plight. UNPACKING CAMEROON Hanno discovered her Chariot of God was her Name Hanno ignored Above her hell soared With its angel bee yah Driving chariot that far From God Hanno won’t recognise And would now want to rebaptise Her blaze eternal one from hell With glowing presidents that smell Hunting human noses to the grave When they all would have loved to have rave. ...

Share