In Malawi the staple of sun kissed maize is replaced by millet because rain

heavy clouds are fickle so water either squeezes or streams

from the petulant sky. The rainy seasons cannot be depended upon

because gods are fickle, and Malawi is not now within sight of the Imperial

Chinese eye. The government looks to uranium, oil and gas

to bring them the money they need. Destroying the land, the food that is grown

upon which the masses must feed. Uranium for the arms rich countries who use

precious corn to power their black hearted motors. Oil and gas to satiate the hunger

and scorn of the world’s Industrial monsters. Malawi will farm and her rural

poor will struggle until their land disappears for good. Mine shafts will tunnel

beneath her bright fields where proud black farmers once stood. And Zimbabwe,

once the Bread Basket of Africa shudders under the weight of Mugabe’s hasty decisions

and pride. Now bellies are swollen with hunger and maize from South Africa

is trucked in to stem the desperate tide. And imagine vast DR Congo with its forests

and its grand River of life, strong enough to power the continent as a whole! But Rwanda,

Uganda and Angola conspire, Zimbabwe and Namibia weigh in to slice up the Congo and its

soul. Africa, your mothers bleed sorrow and your daughters tremble in fear. Your sons grow

weary from carrying guns and your fathers know only tears. Join hands, forgive trespass,

till the soil and grow maize once again. Your future is suckled on unification, your gamble

is blown by the wind.