My land was green with the pregnant corn cobs bent under the weight of birth. Green with the tea bushes come together in a village baraza, the soft rustle in their leaves passing on a whispered message. We live off the land, we eat from the land, but we no longer treat her with the sanctity and respect she deserves. We take, take, and take some more. We want to own as much as we can. We want to conquer the land for ourselves. We keep taking. So much so that sometimes my land turned brown, with the merciless heat from the sun painting the hot ground brown for as far as the eyes could see. We always saw the brown creeping up onto the once lush fields, but we knew it would always come to pass, and when the rains finally came, the shy green of sprouting napier would eventually turn the hills a deep, deep green. Green, brown, green, brown, we came to accept this as the harsh circle of life. But when she turned bright red, awash with innocent blood as the self-proclaimed kings of the land turned us against each other, we knew. We knew the sacred cycle of greens and browns had been broken. A bungled election, an angry people, ashes to ashes, an eye for an eye, a limb, a head, a young man’s life cut off way too soon. And for the first time, because of our greed, the land bled.

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The tranquility you begin this piece with quickly becomes awash with the blood of your land's violence, rich hues of greens and yellows splattered with the terror and despair of your people. Thank you for sharing this portrait of your land and I hope that one day, it is restored once again to the vivid colours of the fields and villages.


I am so moved by your story of Land. Your use of colors to paint an image of its bounty, the harshness of drought and the blood shed from war. I am a fan of your writing and an admirer of your courage to speak so truthfully and boldly of your story of Land. Thank you for sharing this!

Warm regards, Jade

Dear Dy, Wow. This is a very powerful story. It is so visual, and so sad. I can visualize what you are talking about in these few words. I have often also felt sad about the green, brown, green, brown cycle. We need to stop it. Thank you for writing this piece. Maria

Thanks Janice, we can only hope for the historical injustices to be dealt with, or the violence will be sure to erupt again. I'm glad it spoke to you in the way i intended, Jade and Maria, muy gracias ladies.


Congratulations Dy,

your land is proud of you now... and you will grow green to your land.... you choose the colour you want to paint again in your land... may love, peace and respect spread in the whole world.

Ammoura, Fawzia

I love the way you used colors in your story to visualize for me the way war and violence destroys the world as we know it, down to the very dirt itself. Thank you for sharing your passionate words. Your beautiful writing deeply moved me.

I am completely blown away by your brevity, your powerful imagery, and the way you relaxed me into timeless rhythms that soothed me....leaving me completely open and unprepared for what came next. Bravo, sister. You are a powerful storyteller. I feel blessed and gifted to receive your tale. Wow. wow wow wow.

Thanks, Jen Warren

Your writing inspires an image of time flowing, and we humans passing there and spoiling, ruthlessly, homicidely, suicidely.

It makes me think, too. Sooner or later we'll have to give back land what we got from her. It's inevitable. It might happen gracefully, if we humans want. Otherwise, the Earth will claim her interests to the last survivors.

I wish we can learn, all together.

Congratations for your writing. It's beautiful!

Hugs Mauri

Thanks for all the love and all the different points of view. Art truly forces us to think beyond our reality. I appreciate all the responses.


Dy, Congratulation, I would love to hear more in the future about your land and your interest. Your writing remind me the value of land and the color combination really visualization about your land. Keep writing.

With Love and RegardsSunita Basnet