More than 3,000 people lost their homes in the mudslide in Sierra Leone

This was ours
Our legs climbed sugar loaf mountain
Our hands fell the trees
Whose trunks became frame to our homes.

This was ours
Our land welcomed strangers
Fell more trees, they made home
This became theirs, ours
We became neighbors, friends, family

This was home
They sent us out, we returned
Logic falling on deaf ears
Prodigal sons; to home we came
This was us

But the rains came too
Three days we braved it
Resilient, our kids danced in it
Three days the rains fell
This was just life

Then it crept up on us
Unearthing foundations to our shaky homes
The hills gave way, ejecting stones, shedding her layers, destroying home
This is real

We drowned in our sleeps
The mud filled our lungs, boulders crushed our bones
Burying mothers, fathers, babies
Separating families
This is real

Rescue mission turned recovery
We lay to rest a thousand of ours
Childless mothers, fatherless sons, hopeless ones we’ve become
We take shelter and mourn our loss
This was home, we thought we belonged

Workers are digging graves at the Paloko cemetery [Afolabi Sotunde/Reuters]

Writers note: my heart goes out to the people of Sierra Leone. I can only imagine what they are going through.

Photo credit: www.bbc.com. OLIVIA ACLAND