When the river runs dry,

Where will we fetch from?

Dry mouth of thirsty children will cry oh-so-bitterly,

Will they drink their tears?

It is already shallow and brown,

Dirt from centuries washed into it,

Polluting our once blistering river,

So now that it is almost gone,

From greedy mouths drinking it up with mouths like elephant trunks

And filthy handed criminals washing their muddy hands and feet into it,

Where will we fetch from?

When the famine finally comes,

where will we eat from?

Hungry stomachs of the young will growl like bears,

Will they then eat one another?

The crops are already dwindling,

Wilting on the ground,

The dried up ground,

That was once nourished and pregnant with nutrients,

So now that it’s almost gone,

From weevils and locusts destroying our crops,

And the soil now impotent,

Where will we farm?

When the market place is empty,

Where we gather resources?

The market square once full of life, now a ghost town,

Will traders sit idle?

Empty hands of once eager traders now source for other means to feed mouths,

Even if it means getting their hands dirty,

So now that it is almost gone,

From scheming thieves robbing us blind,

And stingy eyes hoarding what belongs to all,

Where then will we gather resources?

Leaders, fellow people of this land,

We are the ones who will make the children’s dry mouths cry,

And their empty stomachs to growl,

Because the traders will be idle,

For you and I are the dirty mouths like elephant trunks,

We are the filthy hands and feel that turn the river muddy,

By washing our dirt into it,

We are the weevil and locusts that destroy the crops,

And the ones who make the land impotent,

We are the ones who subject the traders to filthy hands,

By robbing one another blind,

And our stingy eyes will never let us see the truth.

So what then will we do,

Once our great kingdom falls apart,

We no longer sell our people into slavery,

Instead they sell themselves free of charge,

Do we subject ourselves to this suffering?

Will we trek miles to find another river to drink from?

Will we force ourselves to travel afar just to find potent land?

And hawk from mountain to mountain just to make a living?

What will be left for our children?

What will be left when it’s their turn?

For our fathers told us, “Be careful , children” ,

But our ears turned deaf to their warnings,

So when the marketplace is empty,

And the famine comes,

And the river runs dry,

What then will we do?