MY TRIBUTE TO MUAMMAR GADDAFI
I salute you this
day Muammar,
You were a treasure
to us.
And I kneel at your
grave and weep.
But wait,
Hold on a second,
Was there such a
thing as a grave?
Certainly, there was
no gravestone.
But still I kneel in
that forlorn dessert,
where you were born,
Where you took your
first steps,
Where you grew up.
And shed my tears,
Droplets in the hot
sands,
That evaporate once
they touch them,
Just like the memory
of you.
My tribute comes
late,
Yet I am earlier than the rest of Africa.
Why did Africa keep
quiet?
When your home was
invaded?
Why did it remain
silent?
When the very human
rights you had defended and upheld
Was taken from you?
Why did we look on
Muammar,
When they buried you
in an unmarked location?
Why?
If you were so
cruel,
Why did we call you
the Guide.
If you were so
selfish,
Why did you hand
over the power to the people.
If you didn’t care
for your people,
As you are rumoured
to have been,
Why did you build
the eighth wonder of the world
The greatest
artificial river there is,
Not for fame,
But to give 70% of
your people drinking water.
2,000,000 cubic
meters of water a day,
Along a 1200 km
pipeline.
4,000 km of rivers,
1,300 wells, 500,000 sections of pipe,
3,700 km of haul
roads and 250 million cubic meters of excavation.
Why go through the
trouble.
Why did Africa keep
silent?
Were we right to
have kept quiet?
Give us the evidence
that allowed you to treat him so.
What did he do that
was so bad,
That he shouldn’t
stand trial?
A fundamental human
right,
Even for the worst
criminals.
What did he do,
That he had to be
sodomized, brutalised and assasinated on sight.
Why did Africa keep
silent?
Oh Africa! are we
cattle meant for the slaughter,
Possessing the power
to question our captors,
But silently obeying
to the slaughter house.
Are we dogs that
have been tamed,
To the point where
we cannot determine
Who the strangers
are.
AFRICA! Weep!
Your heroes are dying!
