TAT Poem: SHE IS COUP DE’ ETAT

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By: Saffiatou Joof 

Remember, history has taught us that it’s her attitude.

Buried in a whale’s stomach with consequences

Snatching the constitutional rule of her citizens

Backed by poor governance

Backed by lack of transparency

Backed by lack of fair dispensation of justice

That navigates to extreme anger of revolution,

The will to liberate her nation.

When did people rejoice for her to be normal?

After the benefits of her country’s citizens are hijacked?

When the remains of her resources are being misused

Then greed grows, trust is lost, and corruption becomes normalized.

Then frustration took its peak like a global pandemic.

Then desperation spread out and gave power to a military coup.

Her rule involves unpredictable behaviors.

That leads to one man ruling with an iron fist.

With uncertainty, scores of different cooking skills

She suppressed the voices of her victims.

Torturing the will of press freedom

And wipeouts any act of rebellion against her decree

Criticism quickly results in drastic death decisions.

Although she would come with overwhelming developments.

But as she senses, her government is sinking.

She becomes a nightmare to her people.

So, her love disappears within the heart.

Creating an act of panic that succumbed to our talents

And nobody dares to hack her eggs.

The leaders of Africa expressed their foresight and fear.

But they should have shared the peddling water of their citizens.

That continues to make Africa suffer from unwanted deaths.

Which could have killed the spiritual birth of military coups.

The scorching palm of our problems is nepotism.

And other friends benefit through manipulative behavior.

An act of blindness, paying deaf ears to our crisis

African-aligned friends intrude through the claim of aid rescue.

That gradually buried our government heads with multiple depths.

That eventually became the tail end of our sickness.

As poverty fashion with our depreciated economy

Criminals are hard to tame, as jealousy takes seats.

Our choices shift, our bodies itch, hopes are shattered.

Surviving gets stifling and societal love collapses.

Soaking into a democratic rule comes with responsibilities.

By trampling corruption, decolonization of colonialism concepts

And control our resources in-depth from the hands of foreign countries.

As I wrote my last poem on the conflicts of Africa’s interest

I pray that her attention will be shifted to promoting civilian rule.

And focus on votes without forcefully using guns to ignite change.

Oh, Mama, when would Africa be free from a military coup?

Oh, Mama, free Africa from the crumbling leadership school

And grant us the peace and freedom we will forever stand.

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