Memoirs
www.juggernautbnyusuf.
Eerie sounds in a familiarly strange world
The groans of pain
The crying of babies
Sad faces and forlorn stares

Icy cold fingers of the harmattan trails my skin
As the wind blows cold
I walk through narrow passages
In the dead of night
While other men lay in the warmth of sexual embrace

I am far away from home
Thrown in a world of tears and pain
The blood on my hands is no metaphor
I have blood on my hands

Day after day I struggle
Through cold and stormy weather
Hot and scorching
My strife knows no weather

I am the dearth of death
Or so I like to think
I wrestle with all strength
I hold none back
I give it all

My health fails while I struggle to give
Malnourished and unkempt
I run from bed to theatre
I work till my body gives way and my strength fails me

Because;

Life is sacred
And for me a trust
And safeguard it I must.

Dr Juggernaut Bn Yusuf

Nt Bad