Wednesday, April 16, 2014


He once dreamt of giving other lads- peace
Now he wishes to carry the gun
Like his brethren in Somali, Liberia, et al
But he dare not step out of the shadows
The melanin figments in his body insufficient
The sun blinds his eyes to nowadays realities
All he's got are the blurry visions of the night

Give me one word for a young Nigerian
Whose mother no longer has a heart for care
Her glands so dry-he got no milk to suck
And I'll show you legions
Of watchmen who snore away in daylight
Even when their farmlands no longer grow seeds
Yet their sisters have been taken by the raiders

Ever since the mermaids kissed their soil
They no longer know the word-abomination
See? These fishes even swim on dry land
Having sex with their grandmothers at the village square
While they cheer and make merry with wine
Dancing to the tunes of a neighbouring village
Even when their buildings have been set on fire

Various, the tribes they claim
But of one language- they build no tower of babel
Cowardice. Yet brawlers. Their origin of praise singers
Always available where banana will fall
Fuming at the passersby- they drop no daily meal
Shaking like a jelly fish at the times of action
Yet never ever ready for the day of revolution

(c) 15.04.14. 10-11pm
... a dedication to the many lives sacrificed on the altar of Nigeria.

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