NIGERIA: Under the sand of time, dead memories with stinking feats refused to decay. They live on like the life of a picture of a broken family in the after-life. We complain! Fate betrayed our faith when the world heard our first cry in the nation of dusty dreams; the nation with a wilted hope. Nature knows our name but the government doesn’t, yet, we stand on the assembly ground (as we grow) to sing an anthem of elegic promises, sincerely pledging our all to a country bthat caused our fathers detriments. We dine in oaths every morning. We make oaths! Mad men mending mendless ways, making merry on our murky streets. They wear mockery faces to lampoon. They forgot us in this room with no electricity but spends fortune on our thumbs when the palm tree comes of age. Mad men of this faulty district would go to media houses, showing their false to the world like the thief confessing to a priest. The draw thesis for the epistle of lies on the sheets of our heart. Mad men! We only listen to news when dry cell batteries becomes N50 by chance. Then, we hear that some girls were abducted. We even heard that our President said it was our turn for terrorism. We wondered if Terrorism was a monacrical set up that moves like a disturbed wind amidst countries. We heard the First Lady shed passionate tears on our Palito radio. We heard of bombs, we heard of kidnaps. We saw the looming of war in this room with a boundless wall, we heard that Nigeria was going to fall apart soon. We sing ‘Arise, O compatriot,’ but we retire to bed when they stand to come to our aid. This country, Nigeria, is the bed of thorns spilling the stench of a wilted rose. This is Nigeria, we hold peace while searching for war. This is Nigeria, the land of beautiful people and the citadel of a great minds. I love Nigeria but not all Nigerians. ©tohquality ®
Posted on: Wed, 01 Oct 2014 20:26:54 +0000
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