Life Of The African Children Poem by Great Emeritus

I could remember, vividly
Those days we were younger
During the hamattan
You see our feet, whitish and stronger
Feet that resists the effect of the local pomade..
Until, u might wake up, and find it fade
But, Ah, one thing was clear..
Even infants, those hardly fear..
we run from pathway to pathway to get red sand
We do this all in the name of running errand!
In the raining season,
U see youths,
Grownups!
Going in the rain, with their bags!
To go and climb, like a Gibbon!
To go and steal pears, from someone else's land...
Sometimes they go in single, sometimes, in band..
and after the exercises, they gather at a place, probably in a hut..
Where they can eat and discuss, and wouldn't be caught..
And the elders sitting at a location, looking at a place..
Rubbing their bones to massage the heat-flames..
Those days, nobody likes going to school..
Everyone just wants to be handling a particular tool.