(For the Niger Delta)
the sun has escaped
from the place that it used to live
death has fallen upon us
like a log of wood
that needs no manual to kill.
our rivers are dark
with the souls of dead fishes
festering with death
a new song can be heard
close to the corridor of the ceeeks
& the lyrics are far from happiness.
our children have become hoodlums
that need to fight
for what they have not been getting
& and they threaten the pipelines
that run along our lands
today,we mourn our dead farms
yesterday,it was the turn for a village
to be wiped out by soldiers
blinded by the black gold
thst take precedence over human beings
our economy is swerving
out of the track of prosperity
& the money is evading our lives
by running into the pockets of faceless men
who appear at elections
to fool us with ‘settlements’.
I do not need to be
from the Delta to see
the madness that has escaped hell
& has chosen to dance to the music
of greedy politicians.
and our story shall continue
to grow hungry
until we feed it with the images
of a people
raped and dealt wicked blows
that even the devil would not withstand.
but that is what
the big guns see in us
we are the demons that
need our lands to be commercialised
and our innocence marketed
for the quickest buyer to eat
& spit the unwanted parts for us to manage and feed our children.