Natives
When the gentle moon settled at the east and the Fang warriors returned from the west, they washed their blackness in the Zambezi. The icy cold talons of the Ancestors aiming to pluck out their eyes did not deter their betrayal. With their own hands they sprinkled their pride and values into the river and came home Naked! Young bleached smelly damsels Washed away their blackness and shame in the Nile whilst waiting for skin decay at old age they tossed their shriveled bottoms about, married to the bottle. Drowning in self-destruction on the streets Naked! Identity held onto the reins of colour Shame glistening on the brow of Morals Culture twisted turned and manipulated. The elderly groped about helplessly Naked! When at sunset the voice of wisdom gathered the children to tell the tales of identity under the African moonlight, Civilization, which had been lying in ambush descended on the little ones and raped them into submission, after stripping away their dignity. by Rahina