Monday, May 11, 2015


Thy son grand-mother called me
But sorry, I've never known thee
Let alone proclaim thee
The god called father - our ancestor

Tell me…
How come our land is such a mess?
We no longer fight the invaders
Now we fight our inner-man
Killing her completely
We live like the rich men in hell

How come Awolowo is not yet our president?
The politicians all claim to follow him
But as far as I see; they are jesters
Yet you lie in the grave hoping we'd keep cool
But now our patience lies on the extinct bed
Like the dinosaurs

Even our culture is becoming histories
But you do not care
How could you?
You were like these ‘polithiefians’

Where were you when even in our own land
The foreigners held sway and even kill our folks
Yet we bow in adoration
And eat their poos

Our leaders own not a mouth to speak
Let alone the daggers to fight
They were mere men
You were a man
We just could not see

They said you were a god
Can you stand the white man's god?
Your statue that we bow to
Have all been taken by his missionaries
Even a white slave now fiddle with thee
Little wonder, their god-Jesus- does a lot of miracles

The blood passed onto our generation
I hail thee
I wish I could bow to thee
For the beauty of being black you passed on to me
But I'd rather be known as a follower of a white god
Him alone has not failed me
I cannot put my life in the hand of my ancestor

(c)17.04.12 6:20-6:30pm


  1. What a challenge to the gods
    I love this imagery, "But now our patience lies on the extinct bed
    Like the dinosaurs"

    This is beautiful