A Burial for the Forest

The campaign for the conservation of nature has taken various means and ways. Rarely has it caught the attention of writers as it has been the case in this century. With climate change causing havoc of immense proportion worldwide and humanity on the edge of being vanquished by his own actions, it is even more poignant as Dominic Kidzu points out in this novel that we either preen nature, respect her and relate smoothly with her or abuse her and damn the consequences.
Here again Kidzu has brought life to a practical phenomenon that is niggling ominously on our collective existence. This time, he takes on one resource symbolized by the trees, we so wantonly issue despite the colossal necessity.
"They were to big to sway, to old to dance in the wind. They just stood there, inscrutable in their own self-assured power and glory. The birds make nests on them, Monkey lived, fed and played on their branches, even snakes slithered up and down upon their ample trunks that gave freely of themselves to all who sort to live and grow. Tangban felt subdued in his awe, The world crystalized in his mind's eye inestimable natural proportions that made him feel small, almost non-existent."
The revolt of nature as he narrates in this book, measures evenly as the conflict that consumes man in his morbid quest to corner all that mother earth gives her children for collective use.