Have you ever seen a mother, yet hungry children? 

A land with endless treasure 

Treasures capable of making life worth living 

Rivers flow,

Yes their blessings never seem to reach those at the bottom.

Green field grows,

Yet dreams planted take almost forever to germinate .

Wealth buried underneath the soil,

Yet hunger is what its children wake up to. 

On a stomach screaming for help 

Little feet on dusty roads 

Dust becoming a skincare product 

Big dreams piercing the heart,

Sometimes tightening the chest,

Hunger, the only visitor the body recognizes

It comes knocking,

Without permission,

It takes its place and sits like a master.

A monstrous master

That decides whether dreams should be pursued or left on hold,

That reminds you that you can't go on without filling the belly,

That reminds you that it could visit every day if its due remain unpaid 

It flaunts its mighty wings 

With sharp edges that sting 

Even when the sun is barely awake 

It follows then to school,

It follows them to work places 

And stays with them wherever they are.

How does a child concentrate,

When the stomach makes distracting noises?

How does a worker become efficient,

When hunger is the main boss?

How do people dare to dream,

When hunger is an everyday visitor?

Oh Mother Nation!

Your children abandon dreams before they are discovered,

Their talents die before they are nurtured

Bright minds are buried beneath the darkest of the nights.

Oh Mother Nation!

What crime have your children committed?

What offence did they give to deserve all of these?

I used to think mothers forgave their children regardless of their children's offences.

Or maybe they have not committed any crime.

Or is the desire to dream a crime?

Is bearing the weight of a thousand broken promises by those acclaimed leaders a punishment these children deserve? 

Or perhaps the real crime is being born into a land 

Where promises are easily made and actions dismissed.

Where leaders feast behind closed doors 

And poverty knocks the doors of the led.

Oh, Mother Nation!

How many dreams must be buried by hunger before you hear their pleas?

How many empty plates should clatter on your tables before you fill them up?

I hope it's not too late before you realize that your greatest wealth is not beneath your soil but in the lives of your children.

You should know that your children are not asking for too much

They are asking for a chance to live, learn, dream and become.

They have only learnt to stop asking.

They have learnt to cry and beg for their wishes.

For a nation that starves its children, starves its own future.

*A plea to Mother Nation*