The day before yesterday, late in the morning, I happened to be around St.George Square area of Piassa. Down the concrete wall of Kuma's office I saw people cutting traffic and making a cross at the most unlikely juncture of the road.
And I saw it all.Another dead body in the streets of Addis.Quite a common sight Iwas told.
I was like how come I didn't know that? it isn't like I live some place else or cruise my way around in a fancy sports car!I walk my way around!
"This time he was a boy barely twenty.!" Iwas told.
What really knocked me out was the way people reacted.I mean , for Christ's sake a man dies, one of your kind ,and you don't try to do any thing about it?
In his hours of death a human being deserves respect.Here few get it.
For once I was of the opinion that God gave us a government cut to our measurement.Indifferent we are and an indifferent service we get.

A cabbie said to me ' his soul wouldn't just part he had been in agony since earily in the morning thank God he is gone.' And he crossed himself and flagged down a police patrol to do some thing about the body.
To die in battle is not death but this , dying of hunger in the busiest corner of the city crowded by a bunch of church goers and EPRDF development politicians and NGO scholars.
Shame on you, people.
I thought of the unfortunate mother of that boy...perhaps waiting a few coppers her son might send her come the new year.

I don't know about you,fellas, but from where I come from we used to sing
" a man's death diminishes me...I am not an island"
It is a poem by one of these Irish laureates.Yeats most probably.
Beholding that cold dead body of a twenty yrs old boy, I thought of Meles and his buddies and turned pepper red with shame on their account.I would respect them much better if they were trading tomato at the Menen gulit.That is an honest trade
I thought of the NGOs who beg on his dead body and dance the money away all night long at Megenagna and thought,'there gotta be some obscure law that punishes these jerks with decades behing the bars.'
Good God and they tell me it has become a common sight in Addis.
I wanna go some place far, where life matters.

We might be singing a requiem running for seven hours had he been some one glittery and with loads of money that talks.Think of the 'new up start millioners' who whine with floods of tears how they love their country and their people, those phoney artists and their 'fans'.Think of the mass of people that mills around a star standing in queque for hours to attend a court proceeding with broken heart and all that phoney declaration of love for a nation.
I, at least declare the contrary, I don't like it and I don't wanna lie about it.
Damn you, liars.