causing my children to slip and sleep forever,

allow me to wail,

allow me to strangle my breast,

allow me to pluck my hair,

allow me to beat my hips,

allow me to roll on the ground and eat dust,

allow me to tear my dress and flaunt my nakedness,

allow me to console my loins,

allow my tears to flow in the same floods with mucus,

allow me to threaten my ancestors,

allow me to scream angrily at mwene nyaga,

Mr.Politician,

when death harvests where it did not plant,

and soil demands back its soil,

Mr.Politician,

allow me to mourn my children,

and if you must assist me bury soil,

Mr.Politician,

keep quiet,keep quiet!

let me mourn my children!