The black woman is not stupid
Men explore corruption limpid
Heads stray in pleasure filled rooms
Not caring the impending dooms.
The farm yields no crops
Streets stare into empty shops
The children with tired looks
Yawn sickly opening tattered books
And I stretch feeling tough
This vote is enough!
My hubby was kidnapped
In the quiet while I napped
On the line his voice was dead
While threatened by kids he led.
There he saw another inmate
Without ransom, he was filled with hate
He’s been bleeding about to faint
With tortured wounds, he sounds like a saint
Murmuring safely he’ll sigh,
Enough of this vote else I’ll die.
Charlie boy in despair screamed
After all the measures we dreamed
‘Our mumu don do!!!’
The time for liberation is due.
It’s not about east and north
Nor hatred in the west and south
Our leaders steal in immunity
We’re deprived to question with impunity
Then later we’re forced to choose
Where our votes are simply let loose.
Will I ever really vote again?
With no morsel of food nor grain?
Cash in hand is worthless
Hard work seems quite pointless
Education has lost the success key
What avenue is left to see?
Tomorrow they’ll all stand to campaign
All political powers, they’ll regain
And I will queue to vote again?
This drama could cease in pain.
Just vote again but for what?
To be ignored thereafter, for that?
Supporting all the lies they spit
Dashing hopes and crushing courage a bit.
Backup negligence and poor management
Stand for hunger and mere policy stalement.
We’ll be all out for full recession
They’ll implement the odds in precision
Our efforts to be revived will drain
If ever we turn out to vote again.
Sokari, Hellen Ariniatorudikieke