This poem is based on a true-life experience I had while visiting Mombasa, Kenya. It will always stand out for me as an exceptionally powerful lesson in how to view myself and my efforts in the world, and to realise that the only way I can ever help anyone else is if I understand what it is they need.
The experience also stands out for me as a metaphor for how the First World deals with Africa and her problems. Very often, with the best and most sincere intentions, First World nations step into situations as the great white hope come to take charge and solve all difficulties … when the reality is that all they are doing is making more of a mess than there was before.
I don’t know what the answer is to Africa’s poverty and dismay as a continent, but I do know that it isn’t something that will ever be fixed from the outside.
The Great White Hope
Gentle ocean
Bright blue sea
White sand beaches
I’m walking slowly
At my own contented pace
Through island paradise
Dreamful sleep
When there before me
Lies a problem
A poor dog nearly drowned
Washed ashore
Young man standing over it
Seems to me its rescuer
Must have swum into the ocean
And dragged it up to over here
Standing above not knowing what
To do to save it
What it needs
What it’s got
I turn to him to ask
How?
He says some Swahili back
But I don’t understand
Confused
I do not know
How he got here
To be with this dog
But never mind
That’s not important
The dog needs help
And I can do it
Into action
Adrenalin rushing
I sprint back to the
Hotel along the same careless path
And grab a towel
To shield myself
From the dog’s
Pestilence and smell
State of shock
And blood rushing honor
Gallantly I return
To save it
I speak the words
“help” and “doctor”
The boy knows where
We can find them
And off we set
On a valiant journey
to rescue the puppy
From its sorry state
Charity so wonderful
I hold my head up high
As I shoulder the dog
In my arms
The walk is long
And tedious
My feet ache sore
My back begins to cramp
But I must go on
For a higher calling
the dog might die
And all I will be left with is guilt
Guilt of the pain it must suffer
Guilt of its terrible state
All on the same beautiful beach
I call paradise
So valiantly we march
On
With hope in our hearts
And much pride in my mind
For here I am
This poor dog’s need has
Brought me working
On my own day of relaxing
To solve the problems
Of the world
And I know it can be done
It just takes courage and a bit of sacrifice
And in this dog
I find a symbol
Of what each of us
Should be doing
Giving just a bit
More to save someone
Else, with our higher
Callings and resources
Eventually we find the
Vet
And there we can but
Sit and wait
Its Sunday and he
Isn’t working
How very very noble
I am
Even the authorities
Whose job it is to be dealing with this
Are not working
On whose job it is
But there we wait
For the machine to
Turn, for him to wake
Up and discover
what we’ve found
And what we’ve done
And reward our
Selfless gallant efforts
So we step into the
Room, and as the
Person acknowledged
As bringing the dog – it is my good deed right?
He talks to me
And says
“what’s wrong?”
I describe the scene
On the beach
What I came upon
And tell him that I want to help
He doesn’t understand the drowning
but diagnoses something else
the problem is caused by fleas
and it’s bad
The dog’s anemic and though
there might be
a chance of survival
we cannot see
the purpose
because it’s just a stray
and doesn’t belong
to anyone
I agree – we found
It on the beach, well
I found the boy
And he had found it on the beach
But it looked like it
Had been drowning and
He pulled it ashore
to save it
I’m sure that’s what happened
I don’t know where the fleas come from
It had been drowning
Hadn’t it
All this happens in
English, the boy sits Silent
not thinking
It is his place to speak
And so it is decided
Without his knowledge or input
That the dog be put
Down
The fluid brought out
The needle unsheathed
I watch its last
Desperate attempt to fight for life
A lifeless body, all but defeated
Senses what is to come
And not completely depleted
Gives one last urge to hang on
But this is best, we have
Decreed
Benevolently to end its
Pain
And as its head drops
Lifelessly
The boy stands up and
Begins to breathe
More heavily than before
He walks to the table
Wanting more
Of a role than he had
He doesn’t know what’s
Happened
He wants to know what’s
Happening
something is
Disturbing him
The doctor explains our agreed decree
But this time to him in his own language
So he is included
And knows what is going on
With an exchange of words and looks
I know
Something bad has
Happened
The dog that lay before us struggling
For life
On the table
Without a place to be
Though now lifeless, breathless, painless
has an identity
The dog belongs to the boy
He wants it alive
He needs it to be
alive
He knew it was sick
He brought it from home
To the beach to try kill the fleas
That relentlessly attacked it
My dreamed up drowning
Never happened, the dog was
Sick and had a home
And a place
And in that instant
The mission I had so valiantly and gallantly
Undertaken to solve Africa’s problems
And lessen her pain
Turned into a nightmare
Worse than before
For now before me stood the boy
And I had killed his dog
And in killing his dog
I had stripped him
Of one less possession
In his all but possession-less life
I tried to help, but in helping so
Had done the very thing
That he had sought
to be undone
And in my sincere
well intentioned
Ignorance
I had sown the seeds of his woes
For now he had to take it home
And tell his boss what had happened
The dog was wealth and now was gone
As was my inspiration for saving the
World
And now his big sad
desperate eyes
seemed to hold my gaze
And trap me into my dilemma
Wrapping me in guilt for what I had done
I gave him
ten dollars
to make the problem go away