Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Monday, January 16, 2012
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Saturday, January 14, 2012
First they came for the communists, and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a communist. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a trade unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a Jew. Then they came for the Catholics, and I didn't speak out because I was Protestant. Then they came for me, and there was no one left to speak out for me.- Pastor Martin Niemöller (1892–1984)
Whose Business If Not Mine?
They picked Akanni up one morning
Beat him soft like clay
And stuffed him down the belly
Of a waiting jeep.
What business of mine is it
So long they don't take the yam
From my savouring mouth?
They came one night
Booted the whole house awake
And dragged Danladi out,
Then off to a lengthy absence
What business of mine is it
So long they don't take the yam
From my savouring mouth?
Chinwe went to work one day
Only to find her job was gone:
No query, no warning, no probe -
Just one neat sack for a stainless record
What business of mine is it
So long they don't take the yam
From my savouring mouth?
And then one evening
As I sat down to eat my yam
A knock on the door
froze my hungry hand.
The jeep was waiting
on my bewildered lawn
Waiting, waiting in its usual silence.
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