It was any rate something that took all his attention.
His mind was always directed towards the SHAMBA.
His life and soul were in the SHAMBA.
Everything else with him counted only in so far as it was related to the SHAMBA.

I used to wake up with the roosters
I used to hold my rakes and hoes
They were my morale boosters
But now who knows

I used to till my shamba beautifully neat
To **** every **** peeping above the soil
There wasn't a garden need I wouldn't meet
For even the hardest I would toil

I used to be the farmer everyone admired
Because I was a tireless strong warden
And I didn't mind being mired
By you my gorgeous little garden

I grew green pastures for my cattle
And the vegetables on which I fed
Not until that fateful battle
That changed the quiet life I led

They took you neat and left you wild
Now you lie untamed like the beasts of the savanna
Weeping like a lonely abandoned child
In the throes of battle and parents gonner

You used to be a paradise on Earth
With heavenly innocence and pure
But you no longer command trust from us
For facing you is facing manure