With resolution and cheerfulness
Students prepared their banners
The words “freedom” and “justice” fluttered in the air
While astonishing death hangs out there
That death becomes the price to pay
For crying freedom and justice aloud.
A cloud of sorrow roofs over the nation
Peace and hope have been broken
Between the valley and the mountain
Death is shown.
The rain of blood
Fertilised the ground
Stream of tears poured down.
What can I say to console the people?
When the seed of misery is already shown
In the nursery bed of their hearts
As recorded in the archives
So it is printed in memories.
It is not a painting on the wall
It is a real seed of discord that is shown.
Woy N’naa! Woy Baaba!
Omar, the man is slain
A bullet is gratuity for his humanist service.
Woy Papa! Woy Yaye Boye!
Is that what you give your children
For their libraries?
The shocking story is still written
In the tablet of my chest
The tears are not meant to water
The flower of cowardice
They are meant to tender the heart that feels.
The seed has been sown
The torrential rain has made it to grow
With astonishing speed
Watered by blood and tears
Fertilized by contempt
A bumper harvest of death
Has been reaped.
The banners are thrown aside
But the cries for freedom and justice
Still ring aloud
When will we wipe the tears
From the faces of parents and peers?
When will the valley of death
Be cleared of this badly shown
And undesirable seed?
By Baboucarr Ceesay