They come from every where. Hoping to full fill their dreams. You will find them flying out at nighttime, visiting the steamy bars of Mombasa. Flirting with Germans, Italians, Dutch old and young men. Giving the men what they are longing for. At daytime, they send their fruits up country. To brothers going to college, sisters maybe, mothers in need. A little left over they have to spend to keep their feathers shining in saloons as this one. One day, they will fly out, with shiny feathers, to the future of their dreams.
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If my luck is bad
And his aim is straight
I will leave my life
On the killing field
You can see me die
On the nightly news
As you settle down
To your evening meal….