The subhuman life
Tigrayans were coerced to lead
When it turned inexorable
They took to the mountain ridges,
Abseil precipice, dorkes and valleys
Dangerously cleaved to the cliffs,
Flash flood carting them adrift,
As a hail bullets whizzed
overhead,
bombs roaring thundered
They survived the ordeals
With or without water to drink
esculent to eat;
Withered day time by torrid,
Cryosphere at night horrid.
Their integument turned to scales,
No less than that of a squamae on a crocodile.
Likewise, those who managed to Escape abroad,
Slept in the streets
Or under a palm shade,
Like stray dogs chased.
Those lucky enough to
Escape the daily troubles,
trachled,
Volens nolens truckled,
To a slavery chain buckles
To earn victals,
For an operose darg;
As late arvo came,
They were hardly able,
Their bodies to drag.
Victims of domicile misrule
of nouveau Roche Bedouins,
Who fair no better than
Those the rasorial,
Hard-scrabbling
The hills quaquaversal.
All said and done
Paradoxically it may sound
Those who peregrinate
Or the ones left behind,
They all were better prepared
To face the challenges,
And endure the endurable bondage
Had it not been for the blessing
In disguise,
Of the colonial Amharas’ misrule.
But be forewarned,
These were not done
Out of good will by design
But byproducts of peripeteia Malign
Way in advance,
The Amhara had preconceived
And evil planned.
Maugre it all, at last the Tigrayans stood
roborant, bootstrapped,
With Panglossian trade-mark,
Took the skelp,
And held wrapped to the mountain top.
The Amhara honchos
Couldn’t see beyond their noses,
Couldn’t hear the procellous brontide throes,
Coming from the oppressed;
Except Tittle-tattle close to their earlobes,
Nor could they empathise
With the bedraggled
On their backs hardly any clothes;
Schlepping their belongings on the back,
On a mountain trek,
Still, better chose than options the cantrip,
The Amhara elites’ trick.
The rape and brutality
At the hands of brigand,
Junoesque cladded,
Led by mindless autocrats;
Who claim what they were not,
Who smouldered the victims’ talent
Be it masonry, metallurgy waterworks,
Navigational skills and governance.
In one fell swoop.
So much so to realise their their raptorial dreamery,
They marched talents to their burial
Sanctuary.
To pave their way,
Clinging to power to stay
And sway
They Claimed other people’s history,
Written Linguistic discovery:
That ushered Gens du monde,
To record events
Way back tens of centuries.
Geez: the top best,
unambiguous alphabet,
Breviloquent diphthong perlocutionary,
concise vowel,
Easy to assemble,
And spell,
In the mind’s bindery.
An alphabet discovery,
Was and still is a corollary
of an industrious people imaginary.
No other scripts overtly and unequivocally express,
People’s thoughts and mindset,
Be it Latin, Mandarin or Arabic,
Boustrophedon, laeotropic
Or earthshines vocabularies,
Haven’t got a smooth flow in their linguistic blood arteries,
That Geez carries.
These throttlebottom autocrats have no shame,
To spuriously claim these brighting flames.
Probity drowned,
turned upside-down,
Shrilly-shally, lotus-eaters boondogglers
They claim utter failure
manifestation of their stature,
As a success floriferous with
rosy flowers.
To add insult to injury,
They sold off a sovereign country
And un ashamedly claimed victory,
Fought and won by other patriots gallantry.
Lest they forget,
when faced with a challenge,
The leader absquatulate the country,
Wallowing in a blood sewage,
Pusillanimously took a secrete passage,
Seeking white mans’s patronage
With an assured pledge,
Upon return
he would the country mortgage.
Such is a bogus claim,
Talk about defending Black history heritage.
They fabricated apocryphal story
That they are genetically linked
To renowned ancestry;
Without an iota of blood link
In their arteries.
Some gullible took them seriously
And named their tribe
As followers of Ras Teferi;
What a gimmickry,
An insulting mockery!
Yared Huluf