the path a kid follows in his whole short life on earth, according to my
Larousse
.)
The tribal wars arrived in Kik’s village at about ten o’clock in the morning. The children were at school and their parents were at home. Kik was at school and his parents were at home. When they heard the first bursts of gunfire, the children ran into the forest. Kik ran into the forest. And the kids stayed in the forest all the time they could hear the gunfire from the village. Kik stayed in the forest. It was only the next morning when there was no more noise that the children dared to go back to their family huts. Kik went back to his family hut and found his father’s throat cut, his brother’s throat cut, his mother and his sister raped and their heads bashed in. All of his relatives, close and distant, dead. And when you’ve got no one left on earth, no father, no mother, no brother, no sister, and you’re really young, just a little kid, living in some fucked-up barbaric country where everyone is cutting everyone’s throat, what do you do?
You become a child-soldier of course, a small-soldier, a child-soldier so you can have lots to eat and cut some throats yourself; that’s all your only option.
Gradually, Kik became a child-soldier. (According to my
Larousse
,‘gradually’ means ‘continuing steadily by increments’, one thing or one word or one action leading to another.) Kik was cunning. The cunning child-soldier took a shortcut. Taking a shortcut, he stepped on a mine. We had carried him on a makeshift stretcher and propped him up, dying, against the wall of a hut. We had abandoned him, left him, dying, in the middle of the afternoon in some fucked-up village, to the tender mercies of the villagers. (‘Tender mercies’ doesn’t mean what it says; it means ‘attention or treatment not inthe best interests of its recipients’.) To their tender mercies, because that’s how Allah decided he wanted poor Kik to end his days on earth. Allah is not obliged to be fair about everything, about all his creations, about all his actions here on earth.
The same goes for me. I don’t have to talk, I’m not obliged to tell my dog’s-life-story, wading through dictionary after dictionary. I’m fed up talking, so I’m going to stop for today. You can all fuck off!
Walahé! Faforo! Gnamokodé!
3
ULIMO is the name of the faction loyal to the bandit warlord President-Dictator Samuel Doe, who got himself hacked limb from limb. He was torn limb from limb on a misty afternoon in Monrovia the terrible, capital of the Republic of Liberia, independent since 1860.
Walahé!
The dictator Samuel Doe started off as a sergeant in the Liberian army. He—Sergeant Doe—and some of his friends were fed up with the arrogance and the contempt that the Black Nigger Afro-Americans, or Congos, showed for the indigenous people of Liberia. ‘Indigenous people’ are the Black Nigger African Natives ‘originating and living or occurring naturally in an area’. They’re different from Black Nigger Afro-Americans who are ‘descendants of freed slaves’. The descendants of the slaves, also known as Congos, acted just like the colonists in Liberia. That’s how my
Harrap’s
defines‘indigenous people’ and ‘Afro-Americans’. Samuel Doe and some of his friends were fed up of all the injustice that rained down on the indigenous people of Liberia in independent Liberia. That was why the indigenous people revolted and it was why two indigenous people plotted an indigenous conspiracy against the arrogant colonials and the Afro-American colonialists.
The two indigenous people, the two Black Nigger African indigenes who organised the military coup were Samuel Doe, a Krahn, and Thomas Quionkpa, a Gio. The Krahns and the Gios are the two main Black Nigger African tribes in Liberia. That’s why people say the whole of independent Liberia rose up against the arrogant colonials and the Afro-American colonialists.
Luckily for them (the
Larousse
.)
The tribal wars arrived in Kik’s village at about ten o’clock in the morning. The children were at school and their parents were at home. Kik was at school and his parents were at home. When they heard the first bursts of gunfire, the children ran into the forest. Kik ran into the forest. And the kids stayed in the forest all the time they could hear the gunfire from the village. Kik stayed in the forest. It was only the next morning when there was no more noise that the children dared to go back to their family huts. Kik went back to his family hut and found his father’s throat cut, his brother’s throat cut, his mother and his sister raped and their heads bashed in. All of his relatives, close and distant, dead. And when you’ve got no one left on earth, no father, no mother, no brother, no sister, and you’re really young, just a little kid, living in some fucked-up barbaric country where everyone is cutting everyone’s throat, what do you do?
You become a child-soldier of course, a small-soldier, a child-soldier so you can have lots to eat and cut some throats yourself; that’s all your only option.
Gradually, Kik became a child-soldier. (According to my
Larousse
,‘gradually’ means ‘continuing steadily by increments’, one thing or one word or one action leading to another.) Kik was cunning. The cunning child-soldier took a shortcut. Taking a shortcut, he stepped on a mine. We had carried him on a makeshift stretcher and propped him up, dying, against the wall of a hut. We had abandoned him, left him, dying, in the middle of the afternoon in some fucked-up village, to the tender mercies of the villagers. (‘Tender mercies’ doesn’t mean what it says; it means ‘attention or treatment not inthe best interests of its recipients’.) To their tender mercies, because that’s how Allah decided he wanted poor Kik to end his days on earth. Allah is not obliged to be fair about everything, about all his creations, about all his actions here on earth.
The same goes for me. I don’t have to talk, I’m not obliged to tell my dog’s-life-story, wading through dictionary after dictionary. I’m fed up talking, so I’m going to stop for today. You can all fuck off!
Walahé! Faforo! Gnamokodé!
3
ULIMO is the name of the faction loyal to the bandit warlord President-Dictator Samuel Doe, who got himself hacked limb from limb. He was torn limb from limb on a misty afternoon in Monrovia the terrible, capital of the Republic of Liberia, independent since 1860.
Walahé!
The dictator Samuel Doe started off as a sergeant in the Liberian army. He—Sergeant Doe—and some of his friends were fed up with the arrogance and the contempt that the Black Nigger Afro-Americans, or Congos, showed for the indigenous people of Liberia. ‘Indigenous people’ are the Black Nigger African Natives ‘originating and living or occurring naturally in an area’. They’re different from Black Nigger Afro-Americans who are ‘descendants of freed slaves’. The descendants of the slaves, also known as Congos, acted just like the colonists in Liberia. That’s how my
Harrap’s
defines‘indigenous people’ and ‘Afro-Americans’. Samuel Doe and some of his friends were fed up of all the injustice that rained down on the indigenous people of Liberia in independent Liberia. That was why the indigenous people revolted and it was why two indigenous people plotted an indigenous conspiracy against the arrogant colonials and the Afro-American colonialists.
The two indigenous people, the two Black Nigger African indigenes who organised the military coup were Samuel Doe, a Krahn, and Thomas Quionkpa, a Gio. The Krahns and the Gios are the two main Black Nigger African tribes in Liberia. That’s why people say the whole of independent Liberia rose up against the arrogant colonials and the Afro-American colonialists.
Luckily for them (the
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