Guest Post: London is Silent in Tears

Written by Efemena Agadama who has come to London from Nigeria to study. He often contributes articles on human rights issues to his Amnesty International blog and is interested in writing for theatre production.

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With a plastic empty plate in hand
Blue in colour as the sky
Flat as a tiny plank
With pointed Hills as bones protruding
From scaly skin
Pants torn by the kindless fire
Eyes falling inside daily
Saliva lost from mouth
And whitish tongue
Whitish tongue
Tongue searching for food
His soul sinks in despair
Without food for four days
He limps
With fly infested injury
To an only market
Now infested with corpses
collapsed homes
Full of corpses of the young and the old
He searches vaguely
From market to market
Home to home
Mosque to mosque
Church to church
Shrine to shrine
Through floods
Bush paths
In sun
In rain
Yet plate still empty
EMPTY!
Searching for someone
A loving arm
Not sympathy
But a loving arm.

That furious earthquake, man-eater shark, the earthquake that ran through Haiti with its army of vampires, each one with a million swords drawn, slaughtering innocent children, United Nations peacekeepers, pregnant women, brave and coward men, destitute, the blind, lame, deaf and even imbeciles has left in its trail sorrow, tears and corpses. Haiti, a poor country,  is now a home of uncertainty, a garden of withered flowers, a town of dining ghosts, a farm of famine and a party of confusion. You furious earthquake, why did you chose the poor Haiti to unleash your weapon of mass destruction?  Why did you let your calabash of hot coals to fall there – revealing your bloody secrets? Why?  Didn’t you see the welcoming mountains where nobody lives?

Now London is silent in tears. London weeps. London is showing that it is human and has blood in its veins. Just in a twinkling of an eye, it has led the raising of millions of pounds for the survival of those who are waiting to die of hunger, sickness and your monstrous shockwave. The media war between the Labour Party and the Tories has been weakened, the tears of fallen soldiers from Afghanistan have been quieted to the lowest level and all attention geared towards the horror, the horror of your devastation. London is silent in tears. London weeps, but not all tears do come to the eyes. It is much easier to wipe tears that come to the eyes than to wipe tears that lay in our hearts.
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