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In bitter-sweet the sun sets in blood-red glow. The property belongs to someone else overnight. The white man stands with broken spirit. Over a yes-vote their offspring must still pay after years. In junk-iron rusted red-brown, big cities lie completely destroyed now. In their own land a strange troop reigns.  Respectful the country’s citizens now raise their hats to these foreign intruders.

But they take their food and belongings randomly. Yes, because war now rages everywhere. There is no hope and there is no courage. The parents were wrong and therefore the children must pay. Indescribably the drought now reigns together with the flood. Then the Zambezi overflows its banks in a new ditch.

The help of foreigners are again called on. But thousands die under the big mud-flood. The weather becomes so extreme overnight, so wild. Many Africans begin to cough blood. Yes, in bitter-sweet the sun sets in blood-red glow. Across the entire continent, infrastructures lie destroyed.