In those days When civilization kicked us in the face When holy water slapped our…

In those days
When civilization kicked us in the face
When holy water slapped our cringing brows
The vultures built in the shadow of their talons
The blood stained monument of tutelage
In those days
There was painful laughter on the metallic hell
of the roads
And the monotonous rythm of the paternoster
Drowned the howling of the plantations
Of the bitter memories of the extorted kisses
Of promises broken at the point of a gun
Of foriegners who did not seem human
You who knew all the books but knew not love
Nor our hands which fertilize the womb of the earth
Hands instinct of the root with revolt
Inspite of your songs of pride in the charnel houses
Inspite of the desolate villages of Africa torn apart
Hope lived in us like a citadel
And from Swaziland’s mines to the sweltering sweat
of Europe’s factories
Spring will be reborn under our bright steps.
(‘The Vultures’,by David Diop)
The theme of the poem is