Ivory Coast’s tragedy (as Libyan’s) remains one of the harsh and unforgettable blows to Africa at the threshold of this century. Despite the variety of African wise voices that called for a peaceful resolution of the political crisis in that country since 2002, the bloodthirsty hands that schemed Ivory Coast tragedy stubbornly moved their agenda forward.

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The genesis of this crisis, its schemers and all the losses that followed, must be regarded by the African patriots and the progressive forces as a great lesson and a precious opportunity to understanding clearly the necessity of unity before the pitiless face of the world we’re living in.
Those in Africa who think they might withstand and overcome the hellish might of the oppressors are but airheads. I have learned a lot from Ivory Coast’s tragedy the same way did some Africans who really love their continent and have a good vision of its future.
African good leaders of today and tomorrow must keep on mind that while some African puppets are used to destabilize their land, to create chaos or to take down a responsible government, there shouldn’t be negotiations held with the traitors in Paris, London, Washington, or in any other African country. The right thing to do is to wipe them up rapidly for the nation’s peace and interests.
The great leader Laurent Gbagbo is to blame for his incredible patience (which might be seen by some eyes as naivety) when he failed to understanding and regarding Soro-Ouattara as the nation’s worst enemies.
President Laurent Gbagbo tried a lot for peace in Ivory Coast and held many talks with his opponents-enemies who had neither ears nor hearts. He tried and tried tremendously to negotiate with the country’s interior enemies who were not going by the nation’s Constitution or justice.
These are fatal mistakes other African good leaders must avoid, for in time of crisis some decisions are apocalyptic avenues in a context where the former master is the main architect behind the scene.
It is hard and even harder to stand the posture and arrogance of Ivoirian new authorities who built their awful bridge of glory over the deep river of blood of the innocents. As they call for peace and national reconciliation, daily they continue to sow hell amid their opponents and enroll the Medias and some intellectuals-of-the-sty to praise and worship them and misinform the people.
As the butchers in power in Abidjan thunder and spread lies and more cruelties under this country’s sky and zealously wander amid the unforgettable moral and physical pains they inflected to the nation, under my light paintbrush gushes the following poem entitled “Under escort, at last it penetrated Abidjan” a text which in part retraces the long years and moments of sufferings of a peaceful and generous people.                       

Under escort, at last it penetrated Abidjan  
That year, Ivory Coast was a big stage.
That land became a big stage,   
A big stage where was thrown the world bias,
A stage that hosted the world duplicity,
A stage that hosted the world insanity,  
A stage that hosted all the world cruelty,
A stage that showed a divided people;  
Ah how shall it be forgotten?    

Resolutely, something was coming to Abidjan.
It wasn’t a safe but it looked like one.
It looked like a safe that was made in Paris,
It looked like a safe that was assembled in Burkina,  
Was overtly polished by Washington and the UN;
Ah how shall it be forgotten?    

It wasn’t a safe but it looked like one.
It was something heavy and costly to those
Who were sustaining or bringing it.
It wasn’t a safe but it looked like one.
 
It was a special huge-heavy democracy,
Heavier than the heaviest of saves;  
It was coming from the former master,  
To butcher the one conducted by president L.G.    


Previously dispatched in Ouagadougou,
It passed the boundary easily,
And entered the north of Ivory Coast,
   
But it was very tough to bring it to Abidjan,  
And for many years, it wandered desperately
In the north of Ivory Coast among the populations,  
Clinging onto the night, sowing suffering,
Spreading pain and causing many, many deaths.
Ah how shall it be forgotten?  

As G.S.’ men couldn’t enter Abidjan,
In long years they looted the country’s wealth,
They plundered the country’s wealth,
They plundered and plundered
And sold them on the black market,
And overnight, a desert neighboring country
Became a great producer of cocoa;
Ah how shall it be forgotten?

As G.S.’ men couldn’t enter Abidjan,
They forced people to work for them,
Day and night they forced them to work.
Those who dared say, No, were seen
As the enemies of the new democracy
And were beaten, beaten and slain.
Ah how shall it be forgotten?
         
Put on its way to Abidjan,
That democracy was a huge heavy save
Placed in a big lorry,
And protected by armed forces
Under the control of the former comrade, G.S,  
(A good puppet, the kind that the West loves)     
It was Ivory Coast nastiest year of democracy.
Ah how shall it be forgotten?

To help themselves, France,
The former master, and Washington-UN,
All together were helping a former IMF official
With that special democracy to enter Abidjan;
Ah how shall it be forgotten?  

The armed forces escorting democracy
To Abidjan reached Douékoué,
The impostors were not welcome at all,   
Its inhabitants looked down on it.  
They did reject it, they hated it.  
They were then seen as a big threat,
They were seen as threat to the lions’ meals.

Ah yes Ivory Coast was the lions’ meals.
After Ivory Coast elections Paris
And Washington declared A. W. the winner.
O people,
Where did this happen before in the world?
Nowhere, nowhere…

President L.G., the man of peace, the sheep,  
Bleated: in this country, we need peace.
We must avoid useless bloodshed.
People, let us recount, let us recount.
After the recount if I were the looser,
I will step down; I will go. Let us recount.  
But Paris said, no. Washington said, no.
UN said, no.
A.W. said, no; I am already the winner.
   
As democracy was taking time
To reach Abidjan and its House,  
The French army stormed the Palace,  
Seized the leader in power   
In order to facilitate the coming
Of the new Child;
Ah how shall it be forgotten?  
     
In the streets of Abidjan,
The supporters of the new democracy  
Chased and arrested unarmed young protesters,
They undressed them and here and there,
They placed a bundle of five, ten or fifteen men
On the grass or amid the roads and say,
‘Be nice; you’ll be fine.’  

Then, all of a sudden,
‘Bo bo bo! Boom, boom boom…  
Peeef peeef… crack crack crack!’
Ah how shall it be forgotten?

Opened chests… red wine,
Opened heads… red wine, white cream,
Opened stomachs… last meals everywhere,
Broken limbs… red wine, with cream …
Ah how shall it be forgotten?

That new democracy demanded a lot,
It asked a lot from the people of Ivory Coast,
Ah my brothers and sisters slain like pigs.
That new democracy sew chaos,
It got a lot from the Abidjanians.  
Ah how shall it be forgotten?
 
The new democracy cleaned up the Douékouans.
Women were undressed before the children,
They were humiliated before the children,
They were killed before the children.  
Ah how shall it be forgotten?
 
Girls were humiliated before the parents,
They were killed before the parents,  
Women, children and almost
All the boys and men were burned or shot,
Babies too were burned, shot, killed.
Ah how shall it be forgotten?

The new democracy cleaned up the Douékouans.  
Houses and churches were burned down.
Those who found strength  
And fled to the forest were caught and slain.
Ah how shall it be forgotten?  

Ah, humans did this to humans!
Yes they did; yes it happened in Ivory Coast.    
Such courage and madness solely exist in humans.
Such courage and madness  
Do not exist in any beast in any bush on earth.
No, O no…
Ah how shall it be forgotten?

As the French soldiers with some armed criminals  
That protected the new democracy toured the area   
Smilingly and got rid of the bodies,  
Making sure none of them was playing the dead,
They came across two strange corpses.

The strangeness wasn’t on the bodies
Of the two boys,
The strangeness wasn’t in the age
Of the two male children,
The strangeness was in the positions  
And the signs displayed by the two boys.  

The mouths of the two children were open
As if they were still saying in French, ‘You’.
 Between them was a piece of paper.
On the face down was the map of Africa,
And on the face up the one of France.
 
The two children’s lifeless eyes were turned to it.
Each of them had a finger
Pointed at the map of France;     
One of the boys’ feet was lifted
As if to tread the map.

As the busy soldiers stared
And stared inquiringly at the two bodies,
Some of them (born in Ivory Coast)
Surprisingly moved back quickly,
The French asked to know why.

They were told that the two children
Were accusing and cursing France,  
And were guaranteeing that sooner
Or later, France would seriously suffer
From what was taking place in Ivory Coast.   

One of the French soldiers stepped back  
And pointed his gun at the two corpses…  
(Guess what happened.  
Ah unbelievable, unbelievable)
When he stopped,
There was but a ground red meat on the ground.
Ah how shall it be forgotten?  
 
Together, they all kept busy,  
They toured and toured the large area,
Loaded their trucks,
Went and came back,  
Loaded their trucks,
Went and came back, went and came back…
Ah how shall it be forgotten?   

Long live new democracy,
Long live Ivory Coast nastiest year of democracy.
O darkest of crimes in the darkness.     

All this time,
Almost all the western human rights activists
Were present at the scene
Like water in the Sahara;  
Ah how shall it be forgotten?
 
All this time,
The western Medias became aphonic.
O darkest of crimes in the darkness.  
It was Ivory Coast nastiest year of democracy.
Ah how shall it be forgotten?   

O Democracy!
Democracy, the right horse for business,
Human rights, the best bridge to business,
Democracy and human rights,
Excellent Trojan horse,  
Soft paths to nations’ dominations  
Trojan horse for nations’ looting!  
Ah how shall it be forgotten?
 
Today, the business that stinks has its master key:
Disrespect for human rights.
The business for the other nations’ dominations
Has its master key:
Democracy; the hypocrite vile democracy.    

Ivory Coast, O Ivory Coast of yore!   
For power and business,
A peaceful nation became unrecognizable,
Completely unrecognizable.  

For power and business,
A peaceful nation was turned into carrion  
By a handful of local and alien hyenas-gangsters;
And as they keep sowing injustices,
And as they keep moving around and kill,
Kill and kill,
How shall it be forgotten?
Ah how shall it be forgotten?
    
Ivory Coast my Ivory Coast,
Ivory Coast,
Generous gorgeous young Lady of yore,
From your ashes you shall be reborn,
Ivory Coast, dear land of my dear Africa:  
From your ashes you shall be reborn.
Ivory Coast, you shall be reborn.

Yes, Ivory Coast shall be reborn. But I don’t tell lies and don’t want any Ivoirian of good sense to look for true peace in this country as long as Ouattara-Soro and Associates are around withholding political positions. It is impossible, it’s being indeed naïve.
 For true peace, those who placed them up there might be thinking about how to take them down; and they have different ways to do it. These two African traitors immolated their own people and will follow sooner or later; they ensnared and slew their brothers and sisters and were trapped. It is what happens to those who put their own interest above those of their people and walk blindly to capture power.
Some Ouattara-Soro’s apologists regard them as messiahs, as miracle men. No, no miracle will come from men whose hands are thickly covered with the blood of innocent people. They are impostors. The true miracle (and President Laurent Gbagbo knew it and put all his trust, strength, will and love there) is solely and always the people.
The true miracle in each of the African countries shall never be one or two men; the miracle is the whole people devoted to the fatherland; the true miracle is the whole people united and determined to work together to push the nation forward; the true miracle is the whole people around and ideal and ready to rise together and thunder and fight when their land falls under the enemies’ threat.
When we look back at Mr. Gbagbo’s acts, it jumps to our soul that he was and is a wonderful peacemaker, a talented modern politician who knew, loved his people and valued them as the country’s miracle.
African people must keep in mind that they are at the mercy of a network of intelligence designed to neutralize them. Staring at Africa, those western democradictatorships have solely one goal: Get what they need or want by all means.  
Western democradictatorships decisively target and destroy systematically around the world groups and individuals that peacefully or not denounce and attack their injustices, their foul methods and acts.
They work closely in intelligence. Their own people often face the same treatment when they go against powerful groups that run their lands. It is a truth most of the Africans ignore.     
Guided only by personal interests, Ouattara-Soro saw short and ended up failing and slaying their brothers and sisters. They went and sought support from the world Crooks. Blinded, they did not perceive clearly the true nature of their ‘friends’. They are doomed to live, to die and move into history stripped of all their dignity.
President Laurent Gbagbo (the man of peace, of integrity and dignity) captured by the French, extradited and kept in jail, has become a big piece of bone across the throat of the world gangsters’ Court and the so called International Community which, in fact, is made of three or four world Super Power.
Ah gangsters, liberate Laurent Gbagbo. Liberate the innocent man. Gangsters, let the innocent man go, and remain with the big humiliation to be added to the ones on their way. Ivoirians, Ivoirian patriots don’t rest, don’t sleep before the day opens its eyes; don’t sleep, don’t give up the fight in dignity.  


Léon Tuam,
February 13, 2014    

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