Questioning the Postcard Nation

Prostitute yourself not to the foreigners.
Remember the past scars of being raped continuously.
The yellow-feathered round stupid bird who became fat and stopped flying.

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The Dutch.
They chased, raped, killed, ate and finished the last of the stupid and naive birds.

Look son.
Look, this is the picture of the stupid bird who stopped flying and when men came, he was unable to escape and he sat passively awaiting for his death.
Look how majestic of a bird he was…

Prostitute yourself not to the foreigners.
The rape is still ongoing on another facade.
The beaches I played on, the shores of the sea I swam in, would be restricted to my children and grand-children.

The Euros, the Pounds, the Dollars.
So tempting and in need is our country that it does hesitate to expose her cleavage, her thighs and strip naked for the foreigners in the brochures and magazines around the world.

Look son.
Look, at the other side of this fence lies the best beach of Mauritius.
Remember, the picture I showed you at home? That beach is on the other side of this fence.
It brings back memories of the old days when we were still Mauritians in Mauritius…

Prostitute yourself not to the foreigners.
Make sure to use condoms and have protected sex.
Do not contract AIDS, the AIDS of persistent drought that will kill you from thirst.

The Domaine so and so and  what not, Nature parks.
Canoe, water sports, trekking. Why the biggest reservoir is near empty? AIDS, the whore has contracted AIDS. She had unprotected sex with the foreigners!

Look son.
Look, this is the biggest reservoir of Mauritius.
It is not as full as it used to be.
When rivers were allowed to flow in freely.
When trees used to grow freely.

I apologise to you son for having been unable to prevent the rape, prostitution and exploitation of your mother. The people in power are to be blamed as much as I who put them in power.
Choose your future wisely son, save your mother from becoming the whore of Indian Ocean and you just a pimp amassing money…

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