Ishumar, by Toumast.From the French chômeur, and the generation of displaced nomadic people who ended up in
Toumast’s singer and writer Moussa ag Keyna was born ‘somewhere between
Odd that carrying an electric guitar and AK-47 around the
I think of Douglas Oliver’s A Salvo for
Dunes are on the move in
The dunes are moving in on
four miles a year, reaching outskirts
where refugees form squatter camps.
heaved over on the roadside like lorries in ditches.
people tempted into apathy,
their goats are wandering the desert.
Africans enriched by independence
now, like colonialists, in ugly parodies
of tribal land-grabbing, oust farmers
who walk blinded into clouds of dust.
The same farmers, urged by necessities,
drives nomads ever futher inland
across the desert margin, the
Red Saharan dust over
turning into soot.