While scorching sun is devouring the last bit of moisture and the wind is tying the rainclouds so that the carcasses of animals decay in the heat, man carries on playing and cajoling and from world ranks nobody is admitting or contemplating their abomination sins.

While supplicatory prayers resound from churches over water levels receding lower and lower, for the Baal priests their communion cup of blood and gall is now poured because the hungry child of Africa will devour the last cents in their purse. While heat waves vibrate and shine on tarred roads with cicada making deafening sound, the thirsty begins to fiercely wish they could drown in cool water. So the farmer’s courage also sinks because their hands are tied by drought.

Yes, while the rain-dancer desperately attempts to lure raindrops with his dance, while the drought voraciously devours the last bit of moisture, there the congregations call: Send the lightning bolt and let the thunder resounds loudly, yes send us rain, just a little water, so that we can drink.