GIVE ME, GIVE ME
"Give me, give me" is what they say,
to me, a Toubab, almost every single day,
every time, when I see them on the street,
it becomes their standard, annoying greet.
At age of 5 it starts, when they're still small
"Toubab, give me minty" is what they call,
at age of 10, when they rapidly grow,
a football it must be, or why not 2,3 or more?
Sometimes, indeed, my heart does open,
I give them minty, or a football, just a little token,
on their innocent face I wanna see a joyful smile,
they're human too, not just a statistical file.
But soon enough, their smile is gone,
with one against all and all against one,
a competition begins, the fight is swift,
all want to have it, Toubab's precious gift.
Like vultures they jump, as for the last piece of meat,
each other they almost bite, in the competition's heat.
So I want their smile, but instead, what do I create,
except greed, envy and sometimes even hate?
Despite my best intentions, soon the gift gets spoiled,
or even broken, given the fight it's embroiled,
but that's with kids, further let's go,
about "give me, give me" more I have to know.
Starting at 15, what they like most is cash,
that's why for tourists they hunt, when they're still fresh,
the magical formula, that's new, naive and white,
that's why 'those' Toubabs, they just have to bite.
One expects them to fall, on even the simplest tricks,
on nice words, hollow compliments, a new language mix;
with a friendship, they expect a long-term gain,
and to leave their country they try in vain.
They look at arriwing planes, like new hope from the sky,
when a tourist lands, they glue on him, annoying as kitchen flies...
So the story goes on and on..
to the highest level, when they're fully grown,
the youth mentality would be over, that's what I first would have thought,
and that with age, their expectations would steadily fall short.
Yet, "give me, give me" is what they still say,
now it's debt cancellation and more development aid,
so what should I do? I ask myself again...
I'm not God, I can't make money rain..
And for what? What should justify my help?
An abstract thought of fairness? Or hard work instead?
Still, I might give in, to ever mounting expectations...
but why should I? Why, if I feel no appreciation?
Why should I, if my help lasts short,
if it's abused, mismanaged or politically bought?
And it's never enough, it's always more, more, more...
The annoyance of "give me give me", is at my argument's core..
I'm a human too, and to work hard I also must,
so that one day, my own children will not live in dust.
I can help you, but this has it's price,
words are not enough, they sound only nice.
Respect thy first, work even harder than my,
only afterwards you ask,
and I won't even need the reasons why.
MIXED FEELINGS
To an end it comes,
another chapter in my busy life,
with mixed feelings I have to say,
abaraka, djeredjef and good bye;
To newly won friends, making unforgettable my stay,
it's every second, every hour and every single day,
and though homesick I was, for so many times,
to say goodbye, indeed it falls hard, I don't wanna lie..;
Mixed feelings...
It's not easy, I know,
yet, sooner or later I would have to go,
now, all the six months at the smiling coast,
to put on a paper I get easily lost;
A meeting here, a distribution there,
with WFP I was nearly everywhere,
in The Gambia I've seen the best in the west,
yet unforgettable too is all the infamous rest;
Mixed feelings...
Never forget I will for long time,
a women wanting more help, more food,
as if the decision was solely mine..
to support her family of 10+ kids,
for meeting their daily substistence needs,
on health, nutrition and food...
but after three months of help, I ask:
is any further help good?
Mixed feelings...
To address her lifestile, I have to resist,
And so to her culture, I would be dismissed,
but if not,
in 50+ years...where would have we got?
After six months of this work, now I come to think,
that to address her problems at their core,
sometimes less help could help even more..
Mixed feelings...
And yes, indeed, I could write about so much more,
about my mixed feelings, and their substantive core,
about the feelings of happiness, joy and success,
as well as frustration, lack of sleep and so little rest;
Yet I won't, cuz all in all a great time it was,
making a good experience and satisfying the boss,
new things I learned, new friends I've made,
mixed feelings? somehow managing I will,
and hopefully it won´t be the chapter's end...