Victims of War: The forgotten plight of street and displaced children of South Sudan
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South Sudan’s Victims of War: A Poem highlighting the forgotten plight of street and displaced children of South Sudan. A nation or society that cannot care for its children cannot claim to have any other worthy social values. Because of the civil war our children have been forgotten victims.
By. Mama Helen A. Abyei
We are called filthy, we are called street children
Thieves, criminals and at times worse even when
We are victims, and nobody’s burden.
No one cares about us except our Father in heaven.
You don’t tolerate to look at us yet we are South Sudan’s children.
We share food from trash cans with stray dogs
While, we watch your tables full of delicacies.
The aroma sends us to quiver and salivate,
Why not? Never have we tasted, smelled or witnessed such a scene.
You do not even notice our presence, yet we are the future.
We ask ourselves, what does it take to be like you?
Our watery, hungry eyes follow your hands
From the dish to your mouth and vice versa
Oh! What if they throw me a bone, or a piece of bread?
Or, just the last sip of their juice?
We are constantly hungry and thirsty though we are your responsibility.
Suddenly a whip lashes our backs,
Screaming we jump, running while followed by insults.
We do not run far, but wait by the trash cans
We have to outsmart the dogs lest we sleep hungry.
You seem not to feel our pain though we are your children.
We sleep on the streets together with the insects,
The scorpions and snakes became our friends.
We have never been hugged or cuddled.
Abandoned by our guardians, loved by non-human friends,
We have to belong somewhere.
As fathers, if in your dreams you see your own children among us,
Your day is ruined and you call it a nightmare.
Yet we grow up on the streets under your watch, dear uncles.
It has never been our choice, but we have to survive.
Uncles, with due respect, take our example;
We do not deserve this; we want this pain to stop.
We sleep on the street as one, but we respect the girls among us.
We share food from trash cans, and save some for the absent among us.
Learn from us, stop the war and rescue us.
Our number is on the rise, have mercy on us.
It has never been our fault, do not abandon us. .
We have waited for long, take pity on us.
We have paid the highest price, pardon us.
Uncles, with due respect, take our example.
We fight, but always settle our differences because we are one.
We run from your lashes together, we pull the small,
And the weak among us, because our survival is one.
We take care of the sick, mourn our lost and welcome
The newcomers among us, because our pain is one.
Though you don’t stand to look at us, though you ignore us,
Though you abandoned us, we are still your children,
We are the future, and we are your responsibility.
© 2018.
The author and poet, Mama Acholdit Wour Abyei went to the United States as a refugee in 2003. She was a banker in Wau and Khartoum for more than 25 years where she rose to the position of Manager of one of the branches of the Bank of Khartoum in Khartoum. In the United States, she challenged the odds and obtained a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology from the Colorado State University at the age of 61. She has authored a number of short plays and poems. She can be reached at acholabyei@yahoo.com
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