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| Awadifo Olga Kili |
BIO-DATA.
Awadifo Olga Kili is a renowned Ugandan poet, lawyer, and advocate for human rights, peacekeeping, and reconciliation. She has authored several books, including "Victorious Tales," "Echoes of Wails," and "Stains on a Cowrie Shell." Kili's work extends beyond literature, as she actively engages in promoting human rights and peacekeeping efforts. Her dedication to these causes has earned her recognition, including being named one of Uganda's most influential women by New Vision, a leading Ugandan newspaper.
Kili has written numerous poems that have received wide publication in journals and anthologies internationally. Some of her poems have been translated into Spanish, Hebrew, French, and Italian, showcasing her global reach and impact.
ABOUT THE POEMS.
These poems present a deeply insightful exploration of life, delving into the complex and multifaceted themes of conflict, forgiveness, and reconciliation with great depth and perception. Through the masterful deployment of vivid imagery and metaphor, Kili skillfully conveys the devastating and far-reaching impact of war on individuals and communities, capturing the trauma and devastation with striking clarity and emotional intensity, thereby offering a powerful and thought-provoking portrayal of life's complexities, particularly in the context of peacekeeping and the pursuit of forgiveness and reconciliation.
The Scars of War.
The earth wails like a bereaved mother,
Kabinja's fury descends like a swarm of locusts
upon Akoro's verdant hills, where cattle once grazed lazily
in the morning sun's warm embrace.
The war drums throb like a possessed heart;
children's eyes wide with fear, like hunted antelopes,
mothers' tears cascade like Aswa's waters in turbulent flood,
fathers' faces etched like termite mounds, worn by time's relentless hand.
The land lies scorched, charred black as burnt grass;
homes reduced to smoldering embers, like extinguished hearths,
livelihoods shattered like a broken calabash, useless and hollow,
the people wander like lost cattle, without homestead or haven.
In the deafening silence, whispers of the vanished cling;
their shadows stalk like restless cen spirits, unappeased and bitter,
seeking justice, demanding to be heard, their voices resound
through the barren land, like a mournful dirge.
The scars of war cut deep; Akoro's heart still raw,
the wounds of yesterday still seeping, still festering,
like an open sore, refusing to heal, a persistent ache
that gnaws at the soul, like a relentless predator.
Child Soldiers' Lament.
Kabinja's call thunders like the drums of war
in the dead of night, sweeping away the innocent
their hearts torn from the homestead like unripe millet
forced to dance to the tune of blood and fire.
Their eyes, once bright like the morning sun
on the hills of Akoro, now dim with unshed tears
their laughter stilled like the quiet of the grave
their footsteps hesitant like a lost calf without a mother.
Their hands, once soft like the skin of a ripe mango
now grip guns like seasoned warriors, battle-hardened
their minds, once afire with dreams like the soaring wings
of the ground hornbill, now numb with the weight of death.
In Akoro's hills, where cattle once grazed in peace
they now wander, lost like orphans, without a homestead
their hearts heavy with the burden of memories
that cling to them like the restless spirits of the dead.
Mothers' Tears.
Their tears fall like the rains of Aswa
as they mourn their children, lost to Kabinja's call
their hearts shattered like a broken water pot
their wombs, once filled with hope, now empty and dry.
Their breasts, once full of milk for their babies
now wither like unwatered gardens in the parching drought
their eyes, once bright like the morning star
now dim with tears, like the fading sunset's glow.
Their voices, once filled with laughter and song
now whisper prayers to the ancestors, seeking solace
their footsteps, once swift like the running antelope
now slow and heavy, like the burdened ox.
In Akoro's hills, where cattle once grazed in peace
mothers weep for their children, lost to the war's madness
their tears, like the waters of the Nile, flowing endlessly
a sorrow that gnaws at their hearts, a pain that never fades.
The cry of the land.
The earth cries out like a woman in travail
as Kabinja's fury ravages Akoro's land
the trees, once green like the canopy of life
now wither like the shattered hopes of a vanquished people.
The rivers, once flowing like the laughter of children
now run dry like the tears of the bereaved
the hills, once lush like the promise of abundant harvest
now scarred like the faces of the war-wounded, etched with pain.
The wind whispers secrets like an old man
of the devastation that has befallen the land
the sun beats down like a drum
on the backs of the people, worn by war's unyielding hand.
In Akoro's fields, where crops once swayed in the breeze
now weeds grow, like the bitter memories of pain
the land cries out, like a spirit
for peace, for healing, for restoration of its fertile breast.
Forgiveness' Heavy Load.
The weight of forgiveness presses like a mountain
on the hearts of Akoro, heavy as the midday sun
their wounds, like open sores, festering with pain
their memories, like cen spirits, crying out for justice.
Their anger, like a raging bull, charges forward
their compassion, like a withered millet stalk, struggling to stand
their forgiveness, like a tender shoot, vulnerable to drought
requiring nurturing rains, requiring gentle care.
The past, like a dark cloud, looms over them
their future, like a winding path, uncertain and treacherous
they tread carefully, like a hunter in the wilderness
seeking a way forward, seeking a way to heal the wound.
In Akoro's hearts, a fierce battle rages
between the desire for revenge and the need for forgiveness
like a stubborn goat that refuses to be tamed
they must choose forgiveness, choose the path of peace.
Rebel's Regret.
Kabinja's heart, once ablaze with rebellion's fierce fire
now smolders like dying sparks in the deserted homestead
his mind, once sharp like Otenyo's spear, now dulled by creeping doubt
his spirit, once fierce like a buffalo bull, now tamed by overwhelming sorrow.
He recalls the days of rage, like a season of torrential thunderstorms
when anger fueled his actions, like a swollen river in catastrophic flood
he remembers the faces, like fading images on a cracked gourd
of those who suffered, of those who fell in the battle's chaotic turmoil.
His conscience, like the solemn drumbeat in the dead of night
resounds with the anguished cries of the innocent, the mournful wails of the bereaved
his soul, like a withered millet stalk, struggles to stand upright
under the crushing weight of guilt, under the burden of unfulfilled atonement.
In the oppressive silence of night, like a lonely owl perched on a withered tree
he mourns the destruction, the chaos he created in Akoro's ravaged land
he weeps for the lives lost, for the futures shattered like a broken clay pot
and wonders if forgiveness is possible, if peace can be harvested in the barren landscape.
Pathways to Peace.
Shadows of war darken Akoro's land
a pathway to peace winds like a narrow footpath
winding through hills, like a serpent seeking shelter
from the storms of conflict, from the whirlwinds of hate.
Seeds of hope are sown in the heart of the land
like grains of millet, nurtured by the rains of forgiveness
their shoots, like tender fingers, reaching for the sun
of reconciliation, of healing, of new life.
People gather on the path, like scattered sheep
their footsteps, like the beat of a drum, resounding with purpose
their voices, like the songs of birds, singing of new beginnings
their hearts, like gardens, blooming with the flowers of peace.
The pathway unwinds, like a river flowing to the sea
carrying the burdens of the past, the weight of memories
but also carrying the hopes, the dreams of a new future
where children play, like lambs, in the green fields of peace.
Harvest of Peace
Akoro's fields, once scorched by war's fierce flames
now bloom with peace, like a lush garden in the rain
the people, like farmers, gather the harvest
of forgiveness, of reconciliation, of new life.
The crops, like waves of golden millet, sway in the breeze
nourished by the rains of peace, ripened by the sun
of forgiveness, their grains, like precious jewels, shining
with the promise of a new future, of a brighter dawn.
The people, like children, play in the fields of peace
their laughter, like the songs of birds, echoing through the land
their hearts, like gardens, blooming with the flowers
of love, of compassion, of humanity restored.
In Akoro's land, the harvest of peace is gathered
like a bountiful harvest, overflowing with abundance
the people, like dancers, celebrate with joy
the gift of peace, the blessing of forgiveness.
Echoes of Silence.
The silence of peace settles like a gentle dew
on Akoro's land, soothing the wounds of war
the people, like weary travelers, rest in the shade
of forgiveness, their hearts, like gardens, blooming anew.
The echoes of guns, like distant thunder, fade
into the silence, like the memories of pain
the people, like birds, sing songs of joy
their voices, like the morning breeze, whispering peace.
In the silence, like a quiet stream
the people reflect on the past, like a fading sunset
on the horizon they remember the lessons
of forgiveness, of reconciliation, of healing.
The silence of peace, like a warm blanket
wraps around the people, like a gentle mother
comforting their hearts, like a soothing balm
healing the wounds of war, of conflict, of pain, of suffering.
Dawn of Renewal.
The night of war recedes like a fading shadow
as dawn breaks, like a radiant sunrise
over Akoro's land the people, like awakening birds
stir from their slumber stretching their wings
like eagles, soaring into a new day.
The darkness of conflict dissipates like morning mist
as light, like a gentle breeze, whispers peace to the land
the people, like thirsty plants, drink from the waters
of forgiveness, their hearts, like gardens, blooming with life.
The stars of hope, like diamonds in the morning sky
twinkle, like a promise, of a brighter future
the people, like travelers, journey on the path of peace
their footsteps, like a drumbeat, resounding with purpose.
In the dawn's warm light, like a gentle mother's caress
Akoro's people find solace, like a haven
from the storms of war, of conflict, of pain
their hearts, like a refuge where love, compassion, and peace reside.
Forgiveness' Heavy Load
The weight of forgiveness presses like a mountain
on the hearts of Akoro, heavy as the midday sun
their wounds, like open sores, festering with pain
their memories, like cen spirits, crying out for justice.
Their anger, like a raging bull, charges forward
their compassion, like a withered millet stalk, struggling to stand
their forgiveness, like a tender shoot, vulnerable to drought
requiring nurturing rains, requiring gentle care.
The past, like a dark cloud, looms over them
their future, like a winding path, uncertain and treacherous
they tread carefully, like a hunter in the wilderness
seeking a way forward, seeking a way to heal the wound.
In Akoro's hearts, a fierce battle rages
between the desire for revenge and the need for forgiveness
like a stubborn goat that refuses to be tamed
they must choose forgiveness, choose the path of peace.
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