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7 African Panorama Here is the news: The war is on the guns rattle The people drown in the rain of grenade blasts And choke in the smoke of illusory peace talks The rebels cling to an eroded dream Whose sand choke the dam we all drink from The roads barricaded Rockets wreck deep scars in children’s faces As they stare at the wet moon. The banks close, all the money to the war effort To defend the motherland of its dying people We commend the government for such efforts To extinguish a fire their arrogance had lit. And… The nights head in stitches Crushes into the house like a painful headache. This is the end of the bulletin, Stay alert! Blitzkrieg in the gutter of mind Write from where the night roosts And spreads its wings Across the city Marooned and demolished Write as you pick the petals of despair From the alleys you walk alone Broke to the bone 8 Hungry to the look Follow the night when it incubates Misery, the desperate cries The blitzkrieg of grenades in D.R.C Write from the terror that storms the brain The maniac at your groin Human history such a loud fate! Ebony my daughter Where have your good morals gone? I still remember those days Those old days When you were still a child A child who knew how to kneel down A child who knew how to greet people A child who knew how to respect elders A child who knew how to listen to parents A child well born and bred Ebony my daughter Where then did you adopt this culture A culture so baggy and corrupt Is it from the metropolis The so-called esteemed universities The ghetto friends Or the media? Ebony my daughter How you have become a rabid dog ...

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