THE LOUD SOUND OF SILENCE

BY TIKUM MBAH AZONGA When shall the cock crow So, finally, when shall it bloody crow? Is it when the lights are turned off? Is it when Obama flies over Kenya and lands in Tanzania? Is it when Cameroonians in Maryland Massively migrate to Texas to swap their green cards? Is it when Paul finally invites Victor to Unity Palace? Or is it when the Prophet suddenly steps forward Alone, single-handed, unprovoked, not pushed And announces that he has found the rope with which Judas Iscariot hanged himself And that all Cameroonians in the Diaspora Must within forty eight hours return home Or face the wrath of Uncle Sam? Then what will happen to Endeley`s good old bow? Shall it metamophorsize into a new crow Or shall it blossom into another bouquet for Schwarzkopf? Where shall that leave age-old Azania? In tatters and adrift, like the wrecked ship, or on solid land? Will that old Cameroonian in D.C. hurriedly auction his lards? Quickly pack his bags but forget his choicest lace? What if everyone calls him a coward Unable to wait for the president’s return because he was hushed? Is each one of us a saint or a witch? Finally, are we a library or an empty book shelf? Let us take a look at ourselves and determine whether it’s mighty America Or this little Cameroon we call home At the end of the day, It’s Uncle Sam or the tam-tam.