Translated from the Lugandan by the author

The Smoke

The smoke means everything is burning away.
Our country is a hut full of skeletons.
Skeletons that never scream for help.
Screams that should sound like bullets getting fired.
Bullets are only fired at government ceremonies.

The smoke means food is burning.
It burns but the chef adds more charcoal.
Charcoal for food also burns the dead-and-buried.
The dead were lied to.
Switching worlds isn’t therapy.
Healing comes by not looking like a corpse.
Stop talking about the dead they won’t respond.

The smoke is the symbol of a new factory.
This new country is getting rid of citizens.
Citizens live on the smallest portion of land.
Only a few haven’t shed tears for it.
Tears close up our fresh wounds.
All alien things steal a piece of us.

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