Here's Achebe's poem "A Mother in a Refugee Camp."
No Madonna and Child could touch
Her tenderness for a son
She would soon have to forget...
The air was heavy with odors of diarrhea,
Of unwashed children with washed-out ribs
And dried-up bottoms waddling in labour steps
Behind blown-empty bellies.
You can read the rest of it here.
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7 comments:
Such a poignant and tragic and embarassingly humanizing of suffering. How do we allow this to happen, and how can we stop it?
I wish I knew how we could stop it. But I think this poem is a good first step - if people could only see their enemies as humans, with children they love.
Heartbreaking and terrible--- so sad and very powerful.
Sweet Jesus! What a poem. What a tragedy that we live like this and watch that happen.
Heartbreaking.
Oh, that's such a sad poem. Heartbreaking.
Did you know that Things Fall Apart turns 50 this year? Isn't that amazing?
Susan, no, I didn't know this was the anniversary year. Time to re-read the book, I guess! Thanks for visiting.
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