As we finally emerged from the forest, all we could see was barren plain dotted with shrubs and scraggly trees, flat and desolate. Overgrown clumps of fireweed and red sorrel stuck out from patches of buffalo clover, and then even those gave way to cracked, hard soil of paddy fields in the dry season… We drove past these and approached the fringe of the refugee camp itself. It looked like an endless brown sea of thatched lean-tos, mingled with bright blue patches from clusters of plastic tents. Spirals of smoke from countless cooking fires broke up the vast flatness of the landscape.
and the refugees:
And everyone seemed to be busy doing something. Not just sitting alone silent and hollow-eyed with hunger, or organized into huge groups digging endless ditches. No, the people here were preoccupied with countless different chores of their own. I saw a sinewy old man splitting firewood; children lining up to draw buckets of water from a well; boys scrubbing their buffaloes in a shallow mudhole nearby; sisters combing each other’s hair. And because it was getting close to dinnertime, there were women cooking everywhere. I could smell rice steaming, salted fish sizzling in hot oil spiced with chilli, peanuts roasting – I even thought I caught a whiff of coconut cakes!
(THE CLAY MARBLE by Minfong Ho)
LONGING FOR HOME
There it is,
the camp.
An endless brown sea of thatched lean-tos.
There it is, where we have to live
among clusters of plastic tents
barren, flat and desolate.
There it was,
our home
among the paddy fields
Where smoke used to spiral from countless cooking fires,
Where red sorrel used to stick out from patches of buffalo clover.
Now cracked, hard soil.
Now overgrown with clumps of fireweed.
There it is,
the refugee camp.
now our new home. (Rohana)
Hurry, Brother, I see signs of life
Do not take your time, I want to feel alive!
Everywhere I see,
People are hurrying
Just to be free.
I could smell the food,
I could imagine the taste
Memories of good food
They are far away,
How I wish I am home now
Sleeping in my bed,
Peace and tranquility,
Is what I long for. (Chok Shu Ying)
Home,
is where we belong,
Where we have freedom
As well as peace.
Home,
Is where the family is,
To cry in pain,
And celebrate with.
Bloodshed everywhere because of war,
We live in fear, homesick and miserable,
Making us vulnerable.
Why do they kill?
Do they have no hearts?
Please take pity,
I want to go home.
Horrors of War
Don’t you even know that war is bad
Because of these wars
Many are dead
Families once at peace
Now in dispute
When the shelling of bombs began
And that is why
We will stop this war
No more people dying anymore
Too much bloodshed
Causing such a sore
Teardrops now flowing like waterfalls
War makes people suffer
And not much supper
No more splitting of firewood
Nor fetching of clean water
And that is why
We will end this war
No more people dying anymore! (Douglas Lee)
War is terrible
People running
And screaming for their lives.
Bombing and shooting
A nightmare to see
People dying in front
Of your eyes.
Shooting everywhere
Shooting aimlessly
The Horrors of War
That cause much sufferings. (Jocelyn Ong)
Wars are terrible
Wars are cruel
Hurting people
Is what they do.
Banging and Bombing
Where do the sounds come from?
I know what they are
They are the sounds of war
Bombings everywhere
Run away for your lives
Those caught by the bombs
End up in a tomb. (Neo Wei Xuan)
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