The strangest thing that happens in these times is that some people leave their real battle… By Baraka Sakin
One of the strangest things that happens at this time is that some people leave their real battle for freedom, survival, and human rights, and forget the massacres of the Janjaweed, and burying people alive, and none of these people wrote a single word when the Janjaweed killed 15,000 women and children in two weeks in El Geneina. We did not hear them condemn the massacres committed by the military, the Kizan and the Mujahideen, in Darfur, the South and the Nuba Mountains, I did not hear a voice from any of them, throughout the Southern War in which 2 million citizens were killed, and I did not hear them feel a sense throughout this war, except for shame and embarrassment.
And when I wrote about Al-Kanabi: God did not open up to them with a comment, because at that time they were worshipping the military fathers and praising the Kizan.
In alliance, flirting, synergy and love, some of them are aiding Omar al-Bashir, and some of them are preparing to enter the elections with him to share the power cake?
Where were you: When a word of truth could get a person into an ant house or end their life or make them homeless?
Years of war, violations and massacres, years of war crimes, genocide, and crimes against humanity
Where have you been?!
Why didn’t you hear my voice back then?
Why didn’t you pay attention to the cries of the wounded and the cries of the orphans?
All these bloody years of this country’s life?
Where were you when I wrote about the tragedy in Darfur?
Where were you when I wrote about the tragedy of the Kanabi people?
Where were you when I talked about the Jingo and their sorrows?
Where were you when I stood up against the 30-year rule of the Kizan government and went into detention and homelessness?
It amazes me how you are now waking up from the graves of your silence, screaming : Where is Sakin’s blessing?
What misery, what meanness, what cheap trade in blood?
I know you don’t care about the people of Kanabi, and their death and annihilation doesn’t move you a hair.
Two days later, you will forget everything and return with another serial killer for another crime.
It is miserable, petty, seasonal, and cheap.
Stagnant pond
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