a blog for the summer missions training team from Bethel Baptist Church

Thursday, July 12, 2007

Bunia - A poem by Bethany


Once a small city
Prosperous, quaint and pretty
Brothers lived in love and unity.

But one day
The peace of this place fell away
And all left was war and decay.

Friend against friend
To the grave they would send
And to this bloodshed there was no end.

Under the same sun
Where brothers would run
Now is but a red machete and gun.

One is shorter, one is tall
When young, they played with the same ball
Now, in their brother's blood they fall.

Over land and grazing grounds they fought
And their own gain they sought
But slaughtered for naught.

Families separated in flight
Thousands killed every night
Their hatred grew in might.

They used their victims for witchcraft
Tortured, dismembered and decapitated them as they laughed
And openly terrorised others with their evil craft.

Five years the two tribes waged war
Until there was but widow, orphan and poor
And prosperity was no more.

This city suffered after the battle
It's population displaced and wandering like cattle
It's working hands gone, dead or fragile.

Now as you walk by
There are still orphans who cry
There are still bullet-holes and blood stains on walls even if dry.

You can still see scars and wounds
Because even though it's been many moons
Those hurts cannot be put in tombs.

But there is hope for this city even if small
Even now, hatred and revenge will into memory fall
And Bunia will surprise all.

Please do not think this war was an exceptional case
And that the rest of the world lives in roses and lace
For you will be surprised to find in your place
Hatred, discrimination, slaughter for status or race
Whether it was, or is now, or will be along this race
Do not let it leave in your society any trace.


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