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Poem

Open hearts to victims of neglect
In communities immunized from kindness
Hardened by design to the core to select
The affluent whose blindness and fondness for coldness and heartlessness

Shunt aside concerns of the bottom of the pyramid
Whose human worth they measure in dollars and pounds
Stashed in Swiss bank vaults and coffers amid
Abject poverty that makes the rounds and plea sounds on clay grounds

On which mud and pole huts teeming with bed bugs
Vacillate as strong winds at high velocity blow
In tandem with hailstorms whose ferocity tugs
Thatch roofs and cereal bans asunder when hit below

The survival belt when victims with neither voice nor choice
Cringe, gnashing teeth, shivering under threadbare blankets
As distended stomachs yawn and groan wishing Joyce
Could spare a coin from her meager security guard pay pockets

That hardly kept her soul and body together, dreading the shylock’s knock
On her door demanding Joyce settles a thousand Kwacha
Borrowed at usury interest rates on the chime of ten o’clock
To pay school fees for her fatherless urchins whose diet culture

Long forgot the taste and smell of beef last eaten
At Christmas when a Good Samaritan brought them morsel of offals
Cooked outside on a firewood stove, weather beaten
Which despite having seen better days played essential culinary roles

In feeding emaciated mouths
Pumping stomachs with green vegetables
In old family members' memories whose worship for simple truths
Ensured men, women and children prayed before eating meals on wooden tables

Where despite tiny quantities for which they scrambled
Lacked no wealth of compassion and affection
Shared unstintingly with prayers mumbled
In voices full of passion blessed by God’s protection.

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