Machetes broke, barrels of muskets bust open the air was filled with smoke from the villages burnt, fathers were killed, brothers were tortured and branded.

Mothers and sisters who were held in high esteem like goddesses were defiled and later kept as play things. It was on this day that men wept.

The river flowed red with blood, it moved so slowly one could believe it was mourning with us.

 The men wept louder for the forest they called sacred had been destroyed, shrines had been looted and the golden gods carried away. Men wept for what is a man without a God. 

Our warriors had been defeated, our weapons proved to be useless, the children we had been grooming were snatched away. Men wept for there was no hope for the future yet the enemy looked unsatisfied.

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