Today, Yaba market shares the sourly fate
Of the once-famous Oshodi and Tejuosho’s
Stalls and shops, wrecked by the KAI men
Ordered by the ‘government’ of Lagos State
Like heroine-maddened bulldogs
They perpetrated their evil boisterously
Oh Yes, I know the government has plans
They always have.
But the unrealistic and fail-bound ones!
Plans! Plans! Plans!
Like THE ARENA in Oshodi.
Where no poor dare go for a lot
Bombarded by the affluent of all sort
Today, I walked by the bend-down-select ‘boutiques’ at Yaba
All my eyes could capture
Were heaps of woods and banana-yellow gravels
The canvassing red-eyed boys went M.I.A.
And my ever-joyful brothers from the east went AWOL
Which ‘government’ would deprive the poor
Of his meagerly daily bread?
No certificate to tender in companies
No handiwork to fetch their manna
Yet, ‘government’ withheld their last resort,
their God-sent haven!
Oh ‘government’! Now that you ‘stole’ their jobs
They will avail themselves one
Masked with black bandannas
Armed with heavy steels
And ‘Atamatasecious’ ‘Jagamus’
They’ll storm your ‘yeye’ homes
Ravage your family
Gangbang your daughters
And kill your sons
From the first to the little last
Their blood will flow like a river
And you shall swim in its torrent
And every of your avaricious possessions
Shall come to ashes before your own eyes
For if the chicken don’t wink at night
What right has the duck to snore?
Shamefully, you’ll beg for mercy
None, you showed ‘em
Nada, shall they give you
But a one-way visa to hell
Your rightful abode
Who’s the government?
The hawking child on the street
The homeless man under the bridge
The fatherless, penniless and nameless
The jobless, faceless and voiceless