When I think of the wars in Cameroon, my mind goes to Asa’s Fire on the Mountain: “Could it be love for your country, or
But you just torched him? And stood as fumes reeked
Human flesh searing in screaming death
Human flesh fearing its family’s death
I expected to see casualties of Christians,
and Muslims, clenched firm in Death’s unwavering fist.
Cry but that your early death may be last of its kind. Go well brave You, until we meet on the other side.
I’m the anchor chain plunging into the deep, Summoned by the sombre sea bed, taut and steep. I’m the anchor chain torn between the deep
They said they loved me. Then, the metal beasts came, soaring over me Heaping dust and blood on our city streets, As their lethal load