Do You Not See?

Do you not see?

Are your hearts undergoing petrifaction? Cause this silence is uncanny.

You read the news about bombs and scroll like it wasn’t just your brothers and sisters from the far north that got shelled.

You look at pictures of bodies in white sheets and all you think about is, “these bloodlines do not thread through me, I’m safe here, the bullets won’t reach me here”.

Do you not see?

I wish you had shame for that at least,

I wish you had a muster seed of empathy for this,

I picture carrions on bamboo mats with crimson coloured fluid dripping on the shoulders carrying them

I see a 2 year old with no heartbeat, wrapped up in a garment, it’s her Mama’s wrapper. the one Grandma gave her when she gave birth to a free spirited baby.

Hajia Ladi who sells cow milk down the street lost all her cattle. How? I asked.

The cattle rustlers, they raided again.

Papa went out with the other elders in the village holding machetes, screaming “we must fight back, you cannot break us”.

Papa never came back, we couldn’t even find Papa’s body.

Do you still not see?

Bloodbaths are becoming norms.

Communities’ riches are being drained.

Perpetrators’ pockets are being filled.

Oh God please break this filthy cycle of violence.

I hope you see now.

I hope you can see the chaos Zamfara is going through.

Salim Ubale


Image by Nathan Dumlao, Unsplash

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