…IN THEIR COUNTRY?

Read Time:59 Second

we stood innocently in foursomes
suddenly our men in dark uniform seized the road
phantomic eyes that inquired our uncriminal direction
two battered, buttered, flashy fellows
followed besides in agony and pains
hesitantly a confused finger pointed at us
saying, ‘they’re the ones who beat us!’
our probing eyes met at one resolution

sharply guns’ mouths pounced on us!
a swift fellow jumped over for escape
(who would blame him for escaping?
in a country where justice is a costly commodity-
only the rich-in-all can buy it)
we were marched as merchants’ slaves
with guns-in-command into a danfo
and straight into a dark cell of doom
within the uniformed police station

easter came and went, there we were
no bail, no trial no food, no water
several days saw us in there

this time an unconfused mouth whispered:
‘they’re not the ones who beat us’
no chiding, no charging but more shielding
with garments of wealth and wit

there and then our bail was transacted
and our fractured freedom granted

Written by: Dennis Dighimini-sanami