The blood flows and then I wept till my tears become dry in my youthful ages
From the mountain’s top to foot of the coast and from the hilly to valleys of the hinterlands
I saw blood drifts and the silence of the global community keeps me wondering, are we a lesser being?
I saw mothers wept and bury their children and husbands killed by children and husbands of other mothers
Not with dignity but with sorrow we chaperon our beloved ones
I feel the pains of the once Queen’s administered land which is witnessing agony than ever before and the Mother England is silent
If one can count three thousand and weary, I tell you we are counting the departed with tears on our eyes
Not more, we cry with tears but our hearts are broken till we ferry the cause for justice to the borders with injustice
We will relent not
If the Ngarbuh’s were a people of yours where children, the unborn and mothers were slaughtered for no just cause, I tell you, the perpetrators you will not resist the choice of resistance than to resist. Even when the Babanki children thought not of dreaming, the sound of agony befallen in no new normal. Weep I saw them in my broken heart
If the 6th 7th and the 8th articles of 17 July 1998 Statute Acts were to be invoke, not us will tell the nature of the happenings in my homeland
The more than fifty eons in misery is overdue and must be discontinue with justice superseding
From the mountain foots in Victoria to the hilly-valleys of grassland, agony is in our hearts and sought for comfort in vain is normalized.
Youths could take the challenge but their dignity has been captured with moneys and the master seats with no mercy for a failed future. Then, are Grandparents leaders of today?
If the global apparatus used in the 1960s were to be today, freedom!!! We sing.
Till we migrate retrograde to our delinquent and start from the roots, time will not remember this generation for we shall be curse by the future generation while six feet down within mother earth we cry.
Berinyuy Cajetan T.