leaving behind the noise by Sallu Kamuskay

Around the cotton tree

At our empty national museum

With just a little or nothing to show thee

I walked past the artwork of papa, Sir Milton

Designed by one of your sons who still struggle

I can see, feel the tears and pain in his eyes

Behind the Noise, this is what we see

Don’t even know when last we clean his grave

History about them, our elders didn’t teach us

Hence, we don’t know who to honour or celebrate

The scars on mama show nothing has been done

Why then should we ask for our history or clean Graves?

Behind the Noise, this is what we see

Minerals! Minerals! Minerals!

Sons and daughters bluff we have

Forgetting that our land they destroyed

Putting down our mountains and once beautiful Kono

To place that fuelled the war to destroy thee

Where is the Lion on the mountain that even roars?

 The mountains and our bodies, they’ve destroyed

Gbonda, Kamara, Bah, Foryoh, Turay, Koroma,

 Jalloh, Jah, Kamuskay, Conteh all ask

Behind the Noise, this is what we see

Where is the Factory?

Mama

I know, if you had the chance to ask your

Sons and daughters, it could have been.

Why the cotton tree burned?

Why does my grandson have to change his surname?

Why the bloodshed to make me?

Why the court is just for the rich?

Why those who celebrate me are

But those who eat from me

Why are my children asking about our port?

Sold to the Chinese?

Behind the Noise, this is what we see

Why hate are all those in opposition see?

Why my very beaches, you gave to foreigners?

Where are my sons and daughters?

My children and grandchildren, who seek refuge overseas?

Aren’t they grown now to come to beautify me?

Why my history has not been preserved?

Why the only place to live is in my heart (Freetown)

Behind the Noise, this is what we see

Why those who see the best of me

Are those who sit and feed on me (offices?)

Why should my grandchildren travel overseas?

Never want to come back till they are 50?

Why is why still the why is a question those who want to rip from us ask?

Mama: please know, we are all not in support.

But for the few of us that live, knowing you are crying

We hope to change.

Behind the Noise, this is what we see

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