How many travelled
back to their villages
How many walked
And how many cycled
Who hitched a ride
In ramshackle dumpers
Or hid in the darkness
Of Water tankers
How many reached,
How many were stopped
And how many breathed their last
On their way home.

Or was it really home
Where was their home
In cities they worked
In villages they were born
Or the nation which avoided
To look at their plight
People without passports
People without rights
People without a country
To call their own