Published 22nd Oct, 2023

‘I have seen things I can never unsee.’ – BBC journalist

I.
Don’t be scared, Father,
The young child wrapped in plaster of paris tells his dada.
Both lie on beds, offering each other hope whose fire seems to dim by the hour.
Son’s fractured bones enfolded in gauze,
He struggles to look at his father’s bandaged head.

II.
Things I can never unsee:
Dismembered body parts, bowels pulled apart from their habitat,
Suckling babes forced to take milk from strangers, in feeding bottles.
One minute kids and parents seek cover from blasting death.
Poof! They turn orphans, untethered to faces that gave them life.

III.
A nice doctor plays with a new born baby.
The baby smiles, oblivious to the ruin and insanity flying around her.
What do babies know about war? Nothing.
But she will soon grow to learn the history that snatched her mother from her.
She will soon know that the doctor had to rein in his tears to make her smile.

IV.
Where is Mother? She asks her 8-year-old big sister.
Big sis saw her bangled hand. Mother’s dismembered palm looked up to heaven beside the corpse of Father. She keeps this to herself as she joins her baby sister in the tirade of tears.

V.
What do you see under the rubbles?
Wounded survivors and dead bodies,
Bloodied arms and legs torn into unholy fragments,
Eyes that said yes to fate as they saw the grim reaper crashing down on them,
Helpless and hopeless in their last moments on earth.
The war sent them off to afterlife too soon.

VI.
Little boy stands beside his wounded mother’s stretcher.
His little legs, one leg without a shoe, run behind as her mother is wheeled away.
Innocent lad forced by war to look after his mother. He’s scared.
He’s really scared for his mother and for what will become of him if death takes her.

VII.
War is a monster. Why do we war?
Some died yesterday.
Many are dying today, and others will follow tomorrow.
Those who don’t deserve death turn to casualties,
While those who deserve it live to tell the tale.

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