Congo: What your name is to me.
When I hear your name...
It's the roaring voice, the thundering beats of the ngoma drums,
Deafening messenger of my ancestral history
It's its transcending rhythm that marries sound to wind; its echoes miles travelling...
It's the rainy forest,
This Unsullied army of giant trees,
stiffly spread further than birds eyes can see.
Underneath, your fluid daughter flows in sinuous curves;
her beguiling dance: a grey veil for perilous flows.
Quietly she glides like blood in veins,
streaming from the bowels of mama Africa,
an oasis of hope for our deserted souls.
It's the hot, wet kisses of the Tropical twins, the fiery heat from your unbridled ride,
Spread in half, on each of the Equator's side;
It's how mother, you birthed my humanity.
When they speak of your name
It's the mosaïque of bright colours clothes shielding the silklike skin of shy ebony beauties.
It's the busy noise of the city roads muffling the soft rustle of the South West wind whispering to towering palm trees.
It's the urban hunt of fathers chasing the day's game; for families surive on daily bread,
Dodging the raggedy ball, a boy unschooled, bare feet, bloody rare, kicked, dreaming of fans and fame.
It's the fertility of your sons and daughters and their many offsprings bellies bloated
by frequent meals of hunger;
against the generosity of your seas and soils: declared monopoly of old colonial powers.
It's where converge the myriads of bloody rivers spilled with absolute impunity.
For The Berlin conferenciers had you declared
" The well of humanity " .
When I hear your name
It's rivers of tears rolling from my eyes to water your deliberatly deracinated roots
For you see, Dearest Mother,
Your name to THEM has no significance.
Congo, Zaire... there is no difference!
For the West you see,
Your sole importance, the reason for your existence,
Is the grey of your cobalt, the yellow of your copper, the green of your malachite, the purity of your uranium, the vast supply of your diamonds, the black thickness of your petrol.
These! are worth funding rebellions, spreading corruption and political manipulation,
It's humanity denied to millions, reduced to machines of mass production.
It's eradication, extermination and mass destruction.
The medias will portray your condition as exaggeration;
Turning it into a million bucks blockbuster,
Into "just another Hollywood fiction".