« Slow day at the Cattle Market | Main | An unconventional Christmas »

January 23, 2003

Wind of God

Three weeks without rain.
The thirsty almost-millet stood
Upright in a thousand fields,
Brittle and apprehensive in the sun.

On Tuesday morning we prayed for rain,
We knelt, bowing our foreheads to the ground.
Then we got up and ate,
Watched a red cloud approaching.

On Tuesday afternoon the wind struck.
I sat inside and clouds of dust
Blew in under the door; I was concerned
Because my books would get dusty.

Outside in fields near and far away
Slender stalks of almost-millet knelt,
Bowing their heads to the ground.
La ilaha illa Alla.

Breathless messengers arrived in town,
Small boys still blinking dust:
"A mighty wind blew in from the desert it struck the four corners of our field the millet has collapsed it is dead."
Wednesday was very quiet.

On Thursday, market day,
You visited and I couldn't not ask:
"Noy ngesa maa?" How is your field?

"Fuu na boni. Al hamdilillalay."
You pronounced each word
Carefully and dispassionately.
All is ruined. Praise God.

In our silence I heard other voices
Passing nearby and far away,
Repeating to each other without irony,
"Fuu na boni. Al hamdilillalay."

Next year a thousand families
Will struggle to survive.
I went inside, opened a dusty book,
Began to read unhappily.

Posted by sahelsteve at January 23, 2003 03:54 PM