Yesterday, they held smoldering guns in the air, summoning death to consume those in all neighboring IDP camps (no-pun-intended?).
Today, with their left palms, they whisper love songs into the ears of their former enemies who have crossed the two-way Rubicon and passionately kiss them.
But with their right hands firmly behind their backs, they still hold on to loaded guns just in case the dubious migrating chameleon’s molt again and cross the red lines.
But the spectators, the ever lovely but foolish spectators will still pay a year’s wage to watch the circus and applaud until they again fall asleep for the umpteenth time only to wake up to homes vacated of all their earthly possessions.