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32 On these present shores, On these white sands. Mombassa, June 1994 The Rainmaker Cut down your bushes Cut them down Right to the ground! And the thistles and thorns rebelled Fortified by weeping skies And grew to great height and mass Jealous of the Sun. How the women groaned at this abundance-Old men sighed, gnashing teeth Contemplating blisters and aching muscles Tottering over callused gnarled feet and hands Glaring at boisterous finely moulded youth Who pranced and preened in firm show-off Gleaming keen machetes caught the Sun And sticks wiggled in a show of force in the earth I say staffs were dancing in abandon As the young maidens applauded and giggled While mothers identified Sons and Sons-to-be And old men moaned at such naked power Yes, Old men groaned in dismay and discomfort at such exuberance Coveting fresh unending defiance -Oh ! Contemplating youth scampered in glee Dreaming of evolutions and revolutions 33 But, insisting boisterous youthful voices rang out in chant Cut down your bushes Cut them down— Right to the ground Then, pile up the grasses Pile them up, right to the Sky Then, Burn them DOWN! Burn them down right to the ground And scatter your seeds to the cry of the Rainmaker. Ottawa 1976, Buea, 1995 ...

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