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A ballad of Anxiety #Stories4Health

I sat still unstirred at the shores of my thoughts

And probed my mind a myriad of times

But each question whispered another question.

They queued like red ants in the bush and

Seeped in furtively like air in a bottle.

Life is a forlorn hope

My discordant thoughts play

Chords of choreographed fights

Like lions in a pride during day

Prowling and growling at each other

For dominance to their plight.

The questions I ask echo no answers

What happens after the pandemic?

Last night I heard the boss say that

He’s not getting enough money to pay

Us so he will lay off some workers.

Will it be me?            

  

Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!

My kids cry in a shrill voice with

Their translucent skins for food

In this earthly dearth.

What will I feed them?

The government posho didn’t reach.

                                                                                                                       

The landlord bangs, claps and flips

My door every morning mad as

A March hare asking for his rent.

Where should I get the money?

If my life be wounded then I have

Wounds all over my body.

Festering wounds with pus oozing

Through their dirty cracks.

If life should end then let a sharp jolt

Of lightening tear through my heart

My eyes bloat out of their sockets,

My hair straight as wires and my body

Be as hard as a rock.

Let my body be poisoned

So that the hovering hawks and vultures

Waiting to dirge and scavenge its remains

Die to put an end to my reincarnation.

And if am to get a grave

Let it be placed among the wriggling

Maggots in the toilets and let the

Houseflies sing unending taunting

Ballads to my soul.

For what use am I  

If I cannot solve any of my ailings.

-Laurent Bwesigye

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5 Comments

  1. It’s about how you’ve carefully included the details of this harrowing experience. A disciplined, humble effort this one…it’s impossible for any attentive reader to not feel what you’re describing!

Covid-19 pandemic period- a reflection on the abuse of Imaramagambo forest in Uganda.

Dark days in Egoli