I walked through the streets and saw the pain on those young eyes
Yet there went by the chubby ones with an ice cream in the hot sun, in their parents wound up cars with A/C turned on
I watched as he pushed through to make ends meet, sweat streaming down his back, just for a morsel of meal for his struggling family at home
Yet there passed by those on suits and briefcases talking in six figures and above, signing more contract deals and buying more lands
I saw those who seemed okay yet they weren’t, the ache in their heart only the man above can understand
There were those who cried, although not physically but their voice is heard behind closed doors, on bended knees for yet a stressful day at the office
I see all these and many more… The rich richer, the poor poorer.. in my dear African land and I WEEP!
I struggle in my help to assist more and more but as I work, I find out there is more to be done. The stomachs need feeding and their daily lives secure before their eternal life is properly handled.
I sit and watch and now, I reminisce dear Africa over the weeks; Back to Old England, I wish to return to mother Africa, where the soil testify of the toil of its people
Where the screams of young children are directed straight to the creator for immediate attention
As I return to beautiful yet trodden Africa, whatever the Lord may lay in your heart to give and however, please do but your prayers are most needed.
Greetings from England.
Your’s in Christ,