Voices From The Creeks Poem by Harry Biosah

Stimela was not their song
Nor were they spewing vernomous curses
At the chu chu train
As in the miners voyage,
From the plains of Rhodesia
To the heartland of South Africa
As black blood dispensing from the hearts locomotive,
Slowly but stealthily, like sugar ants
working their way from the honey hub
Into the hinterland;
As magma like a ring of fire,
Meandering through every accessible creek
In the body, deep within;
Before being excreted as lava

Trapped in the quagmire
Of the creeks of the Niger Delta,
Their resonance vibrated
Through the putrid guts of the creeks
Richocheting against the back-drop
Of thick gluts of black oil on water
At Eleme, they were greeted by a warning sign:
"Do not drink, swim or fish here"!
Perplexed, they queried:
What shall we do with our fishes,
Whose guts are lined with poisoned crude?
How can we drink water laced with lead?
What shall we do with a poisoned eco system?

Then, in their solemn voices,
They sang in unisome:
"By the rivers of Babylon..."