I saw them whip him with sjamboks.
Tied him on a pole and enslaved,
Carelessly on a birthday suit.
He cried until his voice was hoarse.
His groans were like of an ox being castrated.
As I was staring;
The pain I felt,
Was like of an arrow piercing through my
heart.
My heart couldn't put up with the pain any longer,
Tears made their way out.
As I turn and walk away,
I whispered:
"Oh! My son,
I pray for you.Amen."
Categories:
sjamboks, africa,
Form: I do not know?
I was passing by
then I saw this hectic scene.
I saw three boys with sjamboks,
whipping,whipping,whipping this poor woman
until she bleeded blood.
Her blood was flowing like rivers in summer.
That blood
is the same blood that runs through my veins.
I wanted to finish a scene,
but my eyes didn't allow me to finish the scene.
I asked my self questions like;
'why are they beating her'
'what is she doing at this time in this cruel town'
'what is the problem'
I asked my self question,
that I don't have answers for.
But I hope,
if I've finished that scene,
I must be having answers now.
Categories:
sjamboks, abuse,
Form: ABC