The Saints At Twilight Poem by Sekyewa Godfrey

The Saints at Twilight

The dark claws of death downed upon them
Like tongs gripping a glowing coal.
On streets they were chanting freedom hymns
Demanding amnesty of their political head
Multitudes shouting; "Free Kyagulanyi"

A calamitous fate befell them
But chose to remain a resilient rock
Even amidst the whispering gunshots
That lustfully pricked their hearts.

On the muffled streets they rambled
Volleys of bullets fired indiscriminately
As though to invoke a political genocide.
Dead bodies sprawling in bloody scenes.

Martyrs of an awful fate
None reprimanded or criminally prosecuted
The ambiguity of who shot and killed
Remains mysterious like a deep dark secret.
And the myth of stray bullets.

The tyrannical hand that loosened the state arsenal
Ferried Elite military units distinguished for
Fighting ADF and the Alshabaab
And police stations emptied for a noble cause.

Murky, dumb, and mute streets of Kampala
Turned into war zones
For the November innocent souls
The Saints at Twilight.
(Sekyewa Godfrey)