The frogs croak
the noise bellows via the phone
“what?” I shout, “I can’t hear you.”
“I am leaving” is the reply.
leaving? I mutter
mentally count my friends, my white friends-
abandoning the country
They once loved, cherished.
worked hard. had so much fun in-
drove it NSEW
mesmerized by the beauty
as they turned each corner.
today a human rights nightmare
where no one is safe
from a menace
that we don’t understand
terrorism for too long
society? civil society?
what’s that?
We might as well leave
sever the bonds that keep us here
we don’t count
we create, give, play, and love
for what?
remnants everywhere
architecture, food, dress
roads, design, culture
For whom?
A country that does not know us.
A country that refuses to recognize us.
