The Genuine Officers!

a poem by Nkwelle Assurance Nkwelle, Cameroon

In there! 'The law is our tool', they say.
The accused has no room for speech,
'Ferme le', we heard them say;
Ruthlessly, man after man is pushed in.

Sky and navy blues brought in for questioning,
We were told, yet the chief officer says, " 'tis better we lock them up".
Was it a trick to prove fair judgement?
You only say, 'their parents will pay',
And when one of the fourteen was seen laughing,
The accustomed threat, 'do you know where you are'? -
seized the air.
And that was the law; then, 'push behind the bars' was next.

In the exercise of the law, the gentle assiduous Inspector sleeps and snores.
Enjoy your sleep, you are at service, after all.
The law is what you work with, no need to bother yourself to keep attention.

The Chief Officer, in neatly ironed white asks his subordinate,
'any bread'? 'O, there is enough' he answered.
From the inmates' old-hung-bag moustached with cobwebs, he drew.
'We shall buy more for them', he said.

All will come to the better only when
The pig will find the grinding stone.
Glory be!

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