Fingers are burned but…
we keep going there. Why?
Is it so entrancing we can’t look
away or run away? Or we are naïve?
Is it love, for they claim it blinds?
Is it affectionate or vile?
A blessing or a bane?
It’s a borrower’s blessing
when the debtor dates
a rope around their neck.
It hands the dating debtor
a cash cable with which to
strangle oneself. What liberty!
Which giant bank acts
like a raider in Africa?
It relishes ripping open
the banks of our rivers.
Should we fault it? Why?
Loaded with funds, it lures.
Is it not chic and amatory?
Its terms are compulsory.
Are its arms fond or abrasive?
Dreamy, it decoys and dances.
It expresses, enfolds and enforces.
Like a lover, some mistake it for a star.
A blessing. A beauty. Maybe a bonus.
If it’s a savior, who has it redeemed?
A wise windfall. A bait that Africa falls
for like a famished fish being hauled
into a fishman’s abattoir and hot plate.
The US dollar drowns
and disappears into debt.
Has that colonial institution
ever parachuted an African nation
out of poverty into prosperity?
Is it not a no go-area? A snare?
Oh, you can bank on
that bank for recovery.
Adjust till you’re skeletal!
A poor, perpetual borrower.
Is it affectionate or vile?
A blessing or a bane?
It can pin and pursue
funds from far? World?
What? A fiscal predator.
Yet we keep going there.
We seem to fear freedom.
