In my mind's eye,
I see a vision,
I see surgeons in the pitch dark night (media portrayed african conditions),
Working tirelessly and doing everything in their power,
Giving flickering stars (Africans hemmed in by the circumstances of their birth),
Their best chance to shine the brightest,
Enabling them to stand by the brightest sun and still be able to shine,
Able to stand by the sun and make sunlight look like a joke,
Performing surgery and lancing the african boil,
Life saving surgery,
Not some cosmetic stuff to just look good,
In this african boil,
I see the the antibodies confused by pathogens of corruption,
Nepotism and all the isms which plague the land,
Assaulting the fabric of the African tissue,
Scarifying the beautiful African landscape and the beautiful African heart,
I see the killing and maiming pus begging for an outlet...
I see the surgeons using every right sized scalpel,
Employing even the sharpest axe when the job calls for it...
Lancing the boil... the african boil...
Lancing the African abscess under difficult conditions,
Never a pleasant or pain free job,
Nevertheless a job which must be done if relief must come...
I can see you in your scrubs,
Taking care of the mess,
Your mess... our mess,
All the mess which makes us less!
Brussels © November 2014 afesehngwaHilary
