Spare A Moment

[Jacaylbaro]

Dear Somalis

In the diaspora

Dear sisters

Dear brothers

 

When celebrating Eid

When sauntering in Christmas

Spare a moment

 

When showering gifts

On your lucky children

Spare a moment

 

When you heap them

In new clothes

In Nike shoes

Spare a moment

 

When admiring their smiles

In peaceful lands

In beautiful parks

Spare a moment

 

When you spoil them

With happiness

With electronic games

With garnished foods

Spare a moment

 

When you drive your families

In lush boulevards

Dinning with them

In glamorous eateries

Aimlessly strolling

Aimlessly buying

In designer stores

Spare a moment

 

For the hungry

For the homeless

For the hopeless mothers

Hugging dead children

Back in Mogadishu

Spare a moment

 

When your children

Splash ice cream

On the kitchen floor

Spare a moment

 

When they fret and frown

Over food at home

Crying for deliveries

From fast food outlets

Craving for French fries

For hamburgers

For hefty MacDonalds

When you relent

And render the order

Spare a moment

 

For mothers in Mogadishu

Hugging and holding

Hungry children

Hollow-eyed babies

Hanging to life

Spare a moment

 

When you stroll to hotels

To Sunday evening parties

Prim and piffy

Spare a moment

 

When you toast a drink

And toss down a draft

When you mumble

In mesmerizing music

Spare a moment

 

For children in Mogadishu

In feeding zones

Spare a moment

 

For mothers shivering in cold

For elders cursing their age

For the ruins of Mogadishu

Spare a moment

 

When you ensconce

In comfy sofas

In heated homes

Spare a moment

 

When you turn on

Your television sets

And swap channels

On sleek screens

Admiring your children

Excited and starry-eyed

Over latest gadgets

Escaping the luxury

The comfort at home

To virtual violence

To horror movies

Spare a moment

 

For children in Mogadishu

Roasting in real hell

With limbs maimed

Wading through the blood

Of dead parents

Stumbling on decomposing bodies

Of dead siblings

Seeking shelter in squalid cellars

In bullet-riddled, pockmarked caves

In the lap of agonized mothers

Spare a moment

 

For an orphan nation

Spare a moment

For a country scorched

Spare a moment

Spare a moment

Spare a moment.

 

 

By Bashir Goth