BEWARE THE PALE FACE

BEWARE THE PALE FACE

He came to our village on his metallic horse
Black and shiny
With smiles so many.
Said he had come to help us
Called us the land of gold.


He promised us riches
He reeked of development
Said we’d share the spoils 50-50.
Called himself a genie
Gave infinite wishes.


First wish, we asked for a school.
He picked up his shiny little toy
Spoke in English to someone on the other end
Kofi translated in his limited English.
The missionary had taught him
Before malaria took him.
Two days later
Huge trucks rolled into town
This pale face built us a school right from scratch,
He even taught the kids to speak his native tongue.


Indeed the pale face had come to help us,
We hastily granted him acres of land
He promised to be gentle with the land
Said he was a man of the land
Said he understood the land.
A week later, construction began
Machines the size of mountains we could see from afar
We could feel the ground move beneath our feet,
The noise was incessant
A few of us lost hearing in our ears.
The dust was unbearable
Thick plumes of smoke hung in the air like crows
We all began to cough
Visibility was poor,
The rain became acidic,
Our plants began to wither.


We cried to the pale face
And he made us promises,
He built us a hospital
He brought in people with shiny teeth
And white clothes called doctors.
They performed magic
Gave us little coloured pills that made us well.
We were happy
The pale face had come.


He was our saviour, we loved the pale face
We paid no heed to the hazy skies
The teary eyed trees
And the yellowing leaves
We failed see the greed in his eyes
All we saw were welcoming smiles.
We no longer went to farm
We made handsome money
Working construction for the pale face.
Others sold in our markets instead of us,
We became construction workers
No longer farmers,
Gone were the days of dusty fields craving manure,
And thirsty crops with parched throats
We no longer worried about mealy bugs
Nematodes and black pod disease
We happily spent money the pale face brought.


Decades went by
Our love affair with the pale face
Never waned,
Soldiered on, forever strong.
Then one morning,
He called us all into the market square
He said he was moving away,
His mother had died
Said he would be back soon
Was not quite sure when soon was.
We cried and wailed
Others rended their garments in pain
What were we to do without the pale face?


We woke the next morning
To eerie silence
No pale face
No machines
Just a gaping hole in the ground
A pungent smell hang ominously in the air
Like a dark cloud over our heads.
The doctors were gone
The teachers too
Kofi the translator, the only one left behind.


He held his head in his hands
And soiled his brand new suit
The pale face had promised him education abroad.
We consoled him
We picked up our pieces
We turned to our communal spirit
And soldiered on in disappointment.
Farmers went back to farm but the crops wouldn’t grow
The land had died,
It had been bewitched with a chemical brew.
Hunters went hunting
But they came back with hands empty
And unbelievable tales.
The animals had moved away
Our pastures were no longer green
The river had turned green
Devoid of life,
Our water source forever gone.
The gods had deserted us
The pale face had neglected us
There we stood
Naked and on our own.


We now venture deeper into the forests
Into sacred groves where our forefathers forbade us.
We walk for miles just so we can farm again.
The rainwater’s no good
Tastes funny, smells funny,
Pale face, where’s your money?
We need it now more than ever before.
The village medicine man works wonders
But he now journeys for days in search of mango leaves.
All our mango trees have left us too
They all died when the pale face
Came visiting our village.


We are now worse off than before
The pale face has taken us into the Stone Age.
We have a hospital that sits empty
We have a school that teaches nothing
The market now sits empty
We barely have enough to eat
Let alone sell.


Beware the pale face and his sugary tongue
His shiny horse and
English language with high pitched nasal sounds.
If you see the pale face, send him our thanks
Tell him we thank him for laying us to waste
Send him our condolences on the death of his mother.
Tell him we’re dying one after the other
We might soon meet our maker
Maybe even his dead mother
Thanks to his empty promises and jibber jabber.
Beware my brother please beware
For the pale face brings nothing
But treats so fleeting.
Brothers beware, please beware
Beware the pale face and his shiny horse
They bring nothing but death and destruction.