I hear the coconut trees moving against the wind
against my face,
of the pot-holes, the coal-tar down the avenue
of the sea, its silence that speaks of the weather,
its calmness in the wind.
Of the earth, they speak, telling of the blood
they’ve seen shed here on this shore, this Monrovia.
Of how men were killed, women, raped,
and babies were ripped from
their mothers’ wombs.
Liberia, home, the Atlantic. Home.
Of the buildings, they speak, telling how
the buildings bore bullets to their sides,
of how it was home to child soldiers,
and how mothers were beaten, boys like me,
and turned into drug addicts.
Of the soil, they speak, telling stories of its richness,
of how crops would grow after the war.
And they speak of how we still thrive here
on cassavas, potatoes, watermelons,
I hear the coconut trees speak to the wind,
this land, this still sweet land of liberty.
Kerry Adamah Kennedy is a Liberian, born October 7, 1999. He is a student of Cuttington University, studying History and International Relations and Sociology. The above poem was written in the Young Scholars Master Workshop. He is a spirit-filled Christian.
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