his name is FAROUK SESAY

.....a sierra-leonean poet. farouk sesay...RAPE:

Rape

                                       I.   
The bodies of our women we made to a battlefield
Firing at them with chakabulars propped between our legs
Scaring their wombscape like Hiroshima
The sweats from the brow of their soul choke life from their bodies
We are an invading army looting the obelisk of their Ethiopia
The embers of our loins torch the sacredness of their being
And the fires of our lust consume the oasis of their soul
We beat our chest on their breast to test our manhood
Cheered by depravity anchored on the pendulum of our loins
The vows to die for their honour fade in the cacophony of our moans
 Echoes of the ecstasy of shame prowl in the cages of our emptiness
The flag of shame we hoist on the summit of their memories
 Fluttering and fanning the fires of hate in their souls
For the army suckling succor from their breast
While defiling the milk with the bile of their chakabulars

                                          II.   
From Darfur to Congo to Rwanda to Kailahun
 Soldiers of shame limp across the continent soaked in shame
Sapping the allure of the muses of negritude
Hiroshima of contempt, we place underneath the core of their soul
Exploding everyday to multiple Hiroshimas in their mindscape
Shame bow down in shame
for the wars we fought on the bodies of women
The trenches we dug in their soul
The etu brute wounds we left in their wombs
With weapons of old forged in the furnace of their wombs
We rape them with chakabulars
And rape them again with the penises of our tongues
The stigma left blisters of shame on their image
Like the blisters we left in their wombscape
And their bodies, now a battle field with wreckages of arsenal
Burning!!! Burning!! Burning!

                                           III.   
From the ashes, the phoenix of African womanhood rises
From the verses of Isis the resurrection beckons
From the pyramid of Egypt Cloepatra came on the heels of Nefertiti
From the sacred groves of sandathanka the ankle bells of Nasomayla struck
From the Peninsular Casely Hayford’s pen rages
From the rice fields and fishing ports they came chanting
From the shackles of forced marriages they break free
From Angola Queen Nzinga rallied the amazons
From Ashanti Ya Asantewaa raised the flag of pride
From Zaria Queen Amina shouts the command
To reclaim the milk of life we defiled
To gather the souls we scattered
To piece together the calabash we smashed
To redraw the sacred lines we crossed
To reclaim the territory we invaded
To return the obelisk we looted
To replace the beacons we uprooted
To reassert the honor we dishonored
To Nile the oasis we drained
And to wage a war in the landscape of our soul
They came wearing the scars of the battle of our birth like medals
The breast milk we defile drenched the battlefield
The battle cries of etu brute fill the air
The cries numb our soul
The chakabulars went limp
We retreat like eunuchs spoiled with spoils of our war of shame
And the loot of our burnt image
Saddled on the wounded camels of our souls
 

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NOTE:
Chakabular  a locally made gun in Sierra Leone
Nasomayla, a traditional woman chief in Northern Sierra leone