Once upon a time a thriving centre of commerce and civilisation. Of innovation and culture. A place called home is now a relic of botched colonisation. The leftover of callous devouring by merciless marauders equipped with cunning and a dangerous ideology. The Empire. A pretense to plunder and oppress, perpetuated in the body and mind of the oppressed. Amnesic agents deliberately infusing collective memory loss of ancestral heritage. The land is bare and dotted with colonialist relic physically, mentally and spiritually. Dilapidated buildings occupied by synonymous souls stripped of cultural identity. Trapped within the skeletal remains of an abhorrent campaign. Lost in the sea of confusion.

The ancestral spirits indeed weep.