Poem By: Saffiyah Joof 

For the longest history that I kept in my heart,

 I revisited, for The Gambia to understand my quest,

Today I speak of how I felt.

The last news of you being missing shocks,

Behold, my hand on the cell phone and whisper,

Over the years I heard of this trauma but insisted is he truly missing?

As the fatal news arouses through the length and the bread of this nation.

Murmuring into the cabinet, what happened to democracy? 

A sacrifice you have made to sing the last words of freedom.

Shattered my heart remains stagnant, blown by the wind of surprise.

Disturb by the missing news, followed by the sudden death, it was a rumor.

As the daylight increased and decrease, the news became clear.

 It became a truth, a loss of appetite, found myself from school.

For the longest history that I still kept in my heart,

I point a finger at your death.

For the inhumanly displayed by the regime, 

Brutally tortured, I heard they refused to let you breathe.

To let you say one sentence of my freedom.

When the TRRC emerges, its injury looks fresh, 

Your Quest to fight for the freedom of democracy isn’t just lip service,

Your request for the interest of liberation isn’t just a little effort,

Your braveness further blew our minds, that it’s not just a one-party politics.

But ending tyranny, injustice, disappearing, kidnapped and detained,

But ending fear, dictatorship, hunting of humans, and perpetually insecure,

But ending the risk involves speaking, to being conscious of our rights, in our nation.

I thank you for taking your stand to see that I speak,

You have uprooted a dictator to grant your children peace.

Who alone controls our system and sterilizes the judiciary,

And today we prevail with your flag of freedom, 

The missing bones we have found make us stronger,

Buried your remains within the ears of thinkers,

Your justice is craved and succulent to our oath,

Confirming my freedom of expression,

Paying my last respect to the battle of the fight to win,

I continue to point a finger at your death.

Until the culprit is brought to book for you to rest.

#NAA-KALAPOET SAFFIYAH JOOF.

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