Poem by Balikowa Asia

Hunger in karamoja

The sky forgets to cry
Where bones etch stories on children’s skins
The fields lie flat-no anything,
Only the breath of wind.

The area is merely forgotten by the World,
Mothers trade dreams for bowls of sorrow,
Dreams that are like that of a woman,
Who cannot conceive but wants children
Each day comes with thoughts of how
The children will go by without anything to eat.

But still they stand through the days of pain,
On the ground that is hot like fires of hell,
In very much sorrow, they strive,
The rich take advantage of their ignorance & hunger,
Oh! Our heart has to beat again.