The world appeared so friendly, The rain dropped so comely, And sun smiles so lovely, When I was a child.
The moon runs after me at night, The star twinkles from a distance, Shadows around stared at close range, When I was a child.
I speak to the moon like a companion, I hug my shadow and talk to it as if it hears, I cried to get chocolate as if my destiny was tied to it, When I was a child.
Darkness harbours terrifying demons, Snoring sounds like a legion of ghost by the door, An albino walking on the street was a white wizard, When I was a child.
Tales by moon light was pictured as real, Tortoise was believed to have the nomenclature of man, Fireworks was dreaded like atomic bomb in the neighbourhood, When I was a child,
Masquerade festival marks the arrival of ancestors, Charismas day celebration should never end, Fridays were the happiest days after the school bell goes ringing, When I was a child.
Teachers were demy gods, Airplane was a fish in the sky, Lightening was a touch light from heaven, When I was a child.
Chastisement as a result of bad habit was an act of wickedness, Correction was a mark of hatred. Fathers and uncles were seen as elephant-terror, When I was a child.
Imaginations were magnified as real, Falsehood by elders were taken as facts, Ambitions were just lyrics of a nursery rhymes, When I was a child.
Looking so innocent and comely, With a simple heart and a smiling face, Never would I have imagine the complexity of adulthood, When I was a child.
Neighbourhood comeliness fades away, As time and time passes away with years, Never could I have imagine the world tiering apart, When I was a child.
Things fall apart too fast, As playgroups fade out on every stages, I would not have agreed to loose a dear friend, When I was a child.
The beautiful flowers that sang to my imagination, The comely breeze that whispers to my ears, The glowing sight of the rainbow to my little mind, When I was a child.
Beautiful childhood far too long, Ages in time, never to come, Smiling at the past, while wandering back in thought of When I was a child.
Through the dark corners of the mind, He wondered round the darkest path, Lost, lost in lust that blindfolded his sight, Hmmm, a light signal beyond, he perceive not.
Struggling under the burden of addiction, A self-inflicted confinement of a bounded soul, Freedom becomes more expensive than sapphire and onyx, Yet he sees not the dangling bonanza of liberation beyond.
Confusion and depression stand as chief advisers, Suggestion of suicide is the counsel on the table, Little did he consider the horror of a dying moment? He could not see the blinking light of hope ahead.
Sinking in tears, drowning so fast, Gasping too hard as the heart is shorting down, Help, he……lp …….heeeee! Was the sound thinning off? Too hard to see the lighting rope of rescue.
State of no return too far to turn, Millions of warning were too cheap to yield, Sailing towards bimodal in his pernicious acts, The red light is foolish, he thought in his arrogance.
The pursuit of fame at the expense of peace, Trading off the soul in the market of wealth, As the mind is over charged with drunkenness and surfeiting, Wisdom cries, alas! A soul is dropping.
Never imagine this end, he exclaimed in horror, Too soon to be here, but it is too late, No time to reconsider the end is here, As he ignored the chance when the light beyond was friendly.
Ohhhh no! Too hard to bear the horror around, Tick darkness frowns too frightening to bear, Light, light……. Light! He beckoned, but no answer, The price of a sold soul is in the habitation of darkness.
Gone too soon, was the voice of the ink on the poster, As the lifeless body approaches the cemetery, Wailers wail, but tears could not bring him back, He slipped off the cliff into an endless dungeon.
Reality appears firm on the other side of the waters, As the eternal Judge pronounces a faultless verdict, He cried for a second chance, but no way, He has followed the path of the rich man in the parable.
My lines might appear not too appealing to you friends, But the truth stares at our consciences within the lines, The light beyond still pleads our course on this part, For no advocacy will be matter on the other part.
The light beyond can atone for all, He plead the course for the simple and penitent, All we need is to yield the warning, Before our journey to the six feet below.
Light beyond, light beyond, Shine on my path, illumine my thought, Lest I slip off the cliff of cares of life, Hold me firm to the crystal sea.
Light beyond, light beyond, Give me your wisdom to marry as groom, That I might not fall for the lust that dangles, And my sight see no darkness beyond, oh light beyond.
Swinging from one end to another, Ambition tosses to and fro like a pendulum, Never will human quest kiss satisfaction, The achievement of one goal begat the pursuit of the other.
Like the vast universe and its countless nebula, Homo-sapiens mind appeared broader and beyond, Acquisition of all to himself lies at the corridors of his thought, The achievement of one goal begat the pursuit of the other.
His bigger heart could not be contained within the biosphere, Little wonder he seeks an asylum not only on the moon, But also in the deep of the waters where living gases are unnatural, The achievement of one goal begat the pursuit of the other.
Panting hearts along the ticking of the clock, Men labour round the clock to beat the time, From coast to coast the trend remains uniform, The achievement of one goal begat the pursuit of the other.
More than sulphuric acid the sun burns with anger, Yet will man not stop to think of breaking her scotching barriers, To appease the quest of his mind to romance the untouchable, The achievement of one goal begat the pursuit of the other.
Restless brain sleepless eyes, Not until the target is met, Till the world offers accolades and make an obeisance, The achievement of one goal begat the pursuit of the other.
Winning the world at mental combat could not suffice, Adding a tally of mansions on Jupiter can barely do, He could have mounted the tower of babel to kiss the celestial, The achievement of one goal begat the pursuit of the other.
The desire of one is to have a thousand ladies for pleasure, Others after him craved to be the emperors of the universe, And the 21st century quest is to monopolize the digital space, The achievement of one goal begat the pursuit of the other.
Never will the world fail to appreciate the capacity of her tenants, Transforming jungle to New York and barren land to Dubai, Adorable ancient edifice of pyramid was a product of man’s pursuit, The achievement of one goal begat the pursuit of the other.
As the pursuit of Edison and Ford changed the universal nomenclature, And comfort inhabits human homes and highways, Gate and Musk pursue seamless Microsoft and Tesla order to ease global toiling, The achievement of one goal begat the pursuit of the other.
Neptune and farthest star might sit on the mind as the next voyage, Never will nature forgive he that crosses his fellow’s lane to push him off, All goals will be reached when humanity comes first to mind, The achievement of one goal begat the pursuit of the other.
Never should your ambition halt the life of others, Even the inanimate global elements repel unfriendly human actions, Wildfire, flooding and global warming are counter patterns, The achievement of one goal begat the pursuit of the other.
The metaphysical facts confirms another life after here, As we run across the corners of the globe to get our goals achieved, The need to pursue the celestial while on terrestrial must be unwavering, We have no continue city here for our days are numbered, The achievement of one goal begat the pursuit of the other.
Human heart is a gallery of diaries, stocking the images in the past and the imaginations of the future.
Like a bird on the pathway of the air, so is the thought that failed to be engraved on the sand of time.
Never will the world around cares to fetch from the wealthy stream of your mind, except the mind is sweetly mirrored at the public glare.
Too many noises to entrap a man’s vision, but a mind with an undoubted mission, sieves the noise to extract the tools for mission accomplishment.
When a past wound takes too many time to get healed, the scar becomes indelible, the eyes then become glued to it at the expense of other comely events of life
History is perfect for a comely future, but it becomes gloomily scary, when the fault of others on the walls of time is magnified with disdain beyond measure.
The heart is overburdened under the weight of compounded thoughts, but the ability to onboard depressing thought on the pages of books, liberates the heart from depression.
Never too high a hill to be climbed, never too deep a valley to be leveled, it only takes a willing heart a glimpse of decision to spark an action.
A true friendship is predicated on the principles of mutual understanding and truthfulness, but an iota of deceit in different tongues raises the weapons of war.
Diplomacy is a language of deception, truth remains truth and falsehood has no moral packaging.
A fulfilled man is he who mentors others and duplicate his attributes of fulfilment in them.
Wealth evolves and ends with the terrestrial, no space for earthly treasures on the celestial voyage.
Imagination without a corresponding action evaporates at the corridor of fantasy
Raw gold becomes attractive after it’s enduring moment through the fire, but a skill not refined, dies less attractive.
An ugly past stays as long as it is inhabited in the dark corner of the mind, but the progressivist’s heart is illuminated to dispel the dark bridge that connects the past.
Caution my pen that his name be not mentioned, So arrogant in heart that he finds no mentee, Sighing of victims all days without measure, No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.
Deadened empathy he wears, a twin of Lucifer, Proudly he unleashes doom on humanity, A wild dog he is, straying in his own imagination, No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.
With subtle tales his father begs for confederacy, So gullible they were that fell in that trap, Little will they have thought to be enslaved by Moscow? No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.
His children are fine in palaces of iron doors, Leaking the milky sweat of the task payers, His comfort lies with the discomfort of others, No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.
Should the world around him be led with his cattle rod? And their freedom be jeopardized under his cruel wipe, With gnashing of teeth he vexed his uncontrolled anger, No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.
Too big for the world to tame, yet he wants to subjugate the world, Even the European Union sees him as a cog in their wheel of progress, His haughtiness has caused his companions their fortunes in other lands, No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger,
Oh how he spills the blood of choice less teenagers on the battle fields, Thousands of whom are casualties of needless war, Orphans and widows are multiplied for his inordinate affections, No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.
Sixteen moon passed by, yet the wicked soul still enjoys war, Unleashing deadly brimstones on Mariupol with dead bodies on the street, Will Sievierodonetsk forgives the son of the old dragon? No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.
Let the arms of Maryinka, Bakhmut and Rubizhne be stronger than ever, To counter the artilleries of a reckless warmonger, That Popasna and Volnovakha may shield off his missiles of doom, No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.
His handwriting liters the walls of the Middle East, Trading weapons for black gold on the gulf of Persians, Instigating brothers against brothers on the street of Lebanon, No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.
Now that the desperado is desperate to win more allies, And another monster has joined hands with him to woo more nations, Less my home land falls victim of the antics of the BRICS, Her forerunners are heartless demons in disguise.
Should my fathers’ land consent to the friendship of a carnivore, Have we not learnt a bitter lesson from the yoke of the west we bear? How much more shall we add to our burdens by allowing a greater monster, No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.
He is a straying dog that yielded not to the clarion call of the hunter, His sense of history was beclouded by his presumptuous mind, Little will he think of the fall of Bonaparte, Mussolini and Hitler? No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.
How long will he continue to romance the weapons of war? How long will he continue to threatens the peace of his neighbours, None could have imagine his onslaught against his own brother, No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.
Away with that son of jezebel that covets the land of his neighbor, Away with the offers of the subtle serpent, Away with the league of those that inflicted the globe with a deadly virus, They have no virtue and they have no heart, they are warmongers.
Chants of the new moon on the isles, Relaxation spots accosted in all balconies, Fireworks as rainbow in the new blue, Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.
Fine linens of purple across the streets, As paris is replicated in all village hurts, Singing not sighing through the dawn of the new, Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.
Projections romances prospective plans on leaf, As proposed achievements set men at race, Marathon race as if the devil pursues, Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.
Resolution on the heart platform of all, A better year ahead dangles on the ranges not far, Marriage, car, promotion, and shelter they crave after, Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.
Ephemeral kisses uncertainty as time passes, Yet the essence of time in timeless era not seen, Though minds are beclouded with ephemerals, Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.
No moon comes without a chilly hands of death, First tick in time records his action in operation, No minute, hour, day or month without him roar, Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.
Riches visits her appealing clients on the tussle path, Wealth soar through the alleys of the prudent, As neither riches nor wealth can transcends beyond, Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.
Is it not foolishness as men thought it’s all here? Transition of souls becomes obscured in deceit, And death quietly played a counter game on all, Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.
This week could be mine and the next could be yours, To receive the uninvited guest called death, It may sounds not appealing to your senses, Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.
Think as blood flows on the highways as river, One, two or more souls just met the inevitable, Think as breathe ceases from the nostrils, Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.
So scary to think of him, yet he is the inevitable, As he passes by in the neighbourhood we cringe, Wisdom cries on the mountain to “be prepared” Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.
As you see the lowered casket of that neighbor, Be prepared, lest he meets you unprepared, As we run the race of wealth and prospects, Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.
Only one way to prepare, just a step to escape, Not a soul lives with no debt of death to pay, As JESUS gives life beyond death’s corridors, Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.
As the new moon resolution cuts across the mind, And projection flies on the ranges of our cavities, The need to make way for life after death rest here, Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.
Tears flow on their street like tsunami, Carcasses of the dejected liters the jungle like Somalia, Poverty is their companion and hunger their kinsman, Their rulers are prodigal and callous in mind.
Tales of murder, kidnap and theft, On daily posts like a wildfire, Pilgrims journey with their hearts in their own hands, Even their watchmen are victims of the captors.
With empty belly and frowned faces, Young and old walks the corridors in bitterness, Not without a glimpse of hope in their subconscious minds, ‘Naija go better’ is their daily anthem.
Anarchy has taken hold on their palace attendants, Their edits are meant for the proletarians, Their bourgeoisie buys justice with impunity, A land of crippled value system and justice.
North-west wears the regalia of religious fanatism, The brutal murder of Deborah stirs at the minds like the ghost, North-east harbours bandits for her self-destruction, All day long, woes ransacked their corners with an unprecedented curfew.
North-central is a home of the unimaginable, Where banditry and religious intolerance spread wings, Like an eagle on the hunt, Their kings are helpless, their sons are prey.
South-west is a base of ritualists and religious verbal war, Where toddlers slaughter human for riches, And the social media become the battle field for religion bigots. Even their watchmen are guilty of compromise on these.
Unknown gunmen are the princes of Persia in the south-east, Political kidnap and killings is a daily routine, yet the leader sleeps on, Militancy and broad day light theft are the strongholds in the south-south, Where the military and the militants are companions in criminality.
The center of power is with a magical order, Where pen manipulate figures and snake swallows money, Habitation of seats that decide the fate of hundreds of million, An arena where public opinions are silenced in the dock at judgment.
A land where cattle are more important than human, Farmers are scared of cattle’s brutality in their farms, Landlords can no longer sleep peacefully in their abodes, As security becomes so expensive in the market to purchase.
Oh how naira becomes a beggar on world streets, And absence of subsidy empties the pockets of the middle class, Wages of labourers becomes unsustainable, Ecological succession applies, poor dies rich lives.
Does it not matters to the king in the rock? A land with measureless milk and honey, Yet poverty becomes a heroic monster in countless households, Does it not matters to the king in the rock?
How long will areas of the Niger bear these burdens? When will they be relieved of the yoke of their task masters? Oh how they had a king with human heart, They would have become a land to be married.
They are deserted among the commons, Their seat can’t be found among the nobles, The lips of their magistrates speak no truth, Their princes are cruel and pervert in their ways.
Their young men seek asylum in strange lands, Their maidens are violated and abuse within and without, Their sons and daughters lie in the den of kidnappers, No trusted rescue mission in the land.
Areas of the Niger hear my counsel, Yield to this glooming cry of your bowels, Lest your balconies become a shadow in time, And your maidens become unmarried.
Tears flow on their street like tsunami, Carcasses of the dejected liters the jungle like Somalia, Poverty is their companion and hunger their kinsman, Their rulers are prodigal and callous in mind.
Tales of murder, kidnap and theft, On daily posts like a wildfire, Pilgrims journey with their hearts in their own hands, Even their watchmen are victims of the captors.
With empty belly and frowned faces, Young and old walks the corridors in bitterness, Not without a glimpse of hope in their subconscious minds, ‘Naija go better’ is their daily anthem.
Anarchy has taken hold on their palace attendants, Their edits are meant for the proletarians, Their bourgeoisie buys justice with impunity, A land of crippled value system and justice.
North-west wears the regalia of religious fanatism, The brutal murder of Deborah stirs at the minds like the ghost, North-east harbours bandits for her self-destruction, All day long, woes ransacked their corners with an unprecedented curfew.
North-central is a home of the unimaginable, Where banditry and religious intolerance spread wings, Like an eagle on the hunt, Their kings are helpless, their sons are prey.
South-west is a base of ritualists and religious verbal war, Where toddlers slaughter human for riches, And the social media become the battle field for religion bigots. Even their watchmen are guilty of compromise on these.
Unknown gunmen are the princes of Persia in the south-east, Political kidnap and killings is a daily routine, yet the leader sleeps on, Militancy and broad day light theft are the strongholds in the south-south, Where the military and the militants are companions in criminality.
The center of power is with a magical order, Where pen manipulate figures and snake swallows money, Habitation of seats that decide the fate of hundreds of million, An arena where public opinions are silenced in the dock at judgment.
A land where cattle are more important than human, Farmers are scared of cattle’s brutality in their farms, Landlords can no longer sleep peacefully in their abodes, As security becomes so expensive in the market to purchase.
Oh how naira becomes a beggar on world streets, And absence of subsidy empties the pockets of the middle class, Wages of labourers becomes unsustainable, Ecological succession applies, poor dies rich lives.
Does it not matters to the king in the rock? A land with measureless milk and honey, Yet poverty becomes a heroic monster in countless households, Does it not matters to the king in the rock?
How long will areas of the Niger bear these burdens? When will they be relieved of the yoke of their task masters? Oh how they had a king with human heart, They would have become a land to be married.
They are deserted among the commons, Their seat can’t be found among the nobles, The lips of their magistrates speak no truth, Their princes are cruel and pervert in their ways.
Their young men seek asylum in strange lands, Their maidens are violated and abuse within and without, Their sons and daughters lie in the den of kidnappers, No trusted rescue mission in the land.
Areas of the Niger hear my counsel, Yield to this glooming cry of your bowels, Lest your balconies become a shadow in time, And your maidens become unmarried.
Not again can we continue to languish at the corridors of blame. We will arise with full force to harness our buried potentials, and take our rightful place in the global community. Africa will rise!
For all her predicaments from colonial era she blames, But not a thought in retrospect on the humiliating nature of her kings, She blames the far West and the Far East for her ordeals, Hum, she was beclouded by her own hypocrisy in fantasy.
Little do her children considered the war within her walls, An unending conflicts among her offspring for superiority, Long before the adventurism of the white world, She sold her own children as common commodities, yet she blames.
Ask the Oyos how she sold the Dahomey to the Portuguese for ephemera, Let the Zulus give an account of her stewardship of how she dealt with the Bantus, Kanem-bornu, Mai, Ashantis, Wagadu, Takrur, Malinke, Songhai, Hausa, Benin, Fulanis, Cushites Nilotics, all killed and enslaved one another for pride, yet she ceased not to blame.
She betrays her own tongue yet she claims her voice was silenced, She places less value on her own sons, yet she cries for being marginalized, Among the committees of nations she speaks from the two sides of her own chick, She bowls in secret to the order of the white wizard, yet she stops not to blame same in public.
There are few of her sons that crossed her streets a while ago, Never will history forgets the cry for internal justice of Gamel, Selassie, Nkruma, Garvey, Nyerere, Diop, Lumumba, Azikwe, Toure, Kenyatta, Sankara; she betrayed each of them to death, She splashed their bloods on her walls, yet she blames a distant folk for her own dark heart.
She makes herself an available prey for the western predators, Her walls of defense has she made vulnerable even to a lesser than a state in the Middle East, She prodigally opens her treasure house to the Chinese and the Japanese to exploit, Yet she blames all and sundry for her own presumptuous recklessness.
Ask her, please let her answer, Was she the only one that was colonized? Kingdoms rise and fall, but no sane kingdom remains in the corridor of pitiable self-humiliation, Even the Arabians and Asian tigers have moved on, while she still lament in woes to blame.
Tell her prophets to change the rhythms of their anthems, Casting aspersions and blames on the west is not the way up, Let her priests know of her infectious whoredom around the globe, Her kings and her princes have shared her body in exchange for superfluity of nothingness.
She romances and kisses other cultures and civilization, While other folk garnished their culture with spices of trending technologies, She continues as a wailer trembling under her own shadows of self-intimidation, Her teachers are blamers of less intuition for growth.
Her emperors are callous and bloody on her thrones, Wealth they spread in the hidden corners of Paris and Dubai, She is impoverished yet her gold swims across the waters, To decorates the alien’s cities, yet the blames.
Things fall apart in her balcony, not by accident, Her walls are dilapidated yet she careless, Her children are subject to ridicule within and without, So deaf she is to her offspring cries, but not dumb to blame. Hunger in the tommy, hunger in the mind, hunger everywhere, Sahara and Kalahari left with the bones of her famished children, With all these green forests on the path of Congo and her land that kisses the waters, She has no food for her dying wards, but has all time to blame the invincible.
She is the second to the biggest yet she begs for crumbs from the smallest, Since Ukraine can no longer supply her wheat as usual, she cringes under the yoke of hunger, For how long is she going to depend on smaller folks for survival? How long will she neglect her fertile vast land and stop to blame.
Nature has been so generous to her, yet she blames even the Creator for her own ordeals, She romances the sun than others, yet her streets are darker than the belly of the sea, Her land is impregnated with treasures untold, yet she begs for arms, How long will it take her to realize her own potentials and stop to blame?
Let her look inward, An unbroken wall provides no channel for hospitality to a lizard, Her walls of respect for humanity are broken, Hence the penetration of an opportunist white lizard, yet she blames.
Wake from your sleeping mind oh woman, Chastise your prodigal kings with hot irons, Bring their wondering minds back home to the soil Lest you blame and blame till the cock crow.
The call for unified continental unity on her mind, Which of your nations is internally unified, Ethno-religious crisis in Nigeria, Kenya and the rest, An unsettled home begat unsettled nation and continent alike. Should Ethiopia maintain the capital of your propose unifier, Won’t Egypt, Botswana, Madagascar or Senegal chant a foul play? Smaller ECOWAS has failed to reach her goal, after forty-eight years of her birth, Yet you think of making a mirage a reality? Think before you raise a dust to blame.
Enough is enough, Africa! Pains, tears and hunger we no longer can bear, Worst leadership in the entire human clan, we no longer can endure, Call your princes to order before the fall of your hunchback.
Harness the potentials of Sahara, Namibia and Kalahari to light your dark streets, Engage Nile, Niger, Congo, Orange and Limpopo in a life-long productive assignment, Let the vast savanna be active for internal growth and development of your offspring, And your sons and daughters be bread and nurtured at your corridors.
Despise not your colour for therein lies your strength, Learn from others to replicate goodies on your soil, Select the morally sounds of your sons to mount your thrones, Cause your princes to serve with caution and sincerity of mind.
Then talk of unity when the bustards are tied, Unity is sweet when your prodigal sons are tamed, Peaceful coexistence becomes feasible when your children rest at your bosom, No outward looker, no blaming of others.
Blame less, act fast for your liberty is now, Stop the iron teeth of the Chinese before they bite harder, Trade with the west as partner and not as slave, Blame less, act fast, the clock ticks.
BLAME For all her predicaments from colonial era she blames, But not a thought in retrospect on the humiliating nature of her kings, She blames the far West and the Far East for her ordeals, Hum, she was beclouded by her own hypocrisy in fantasy.
Little do her children consider the war within her walls, An unending conflicts among her offspring for superiority, Long before the adventurism of the white world, She sold her own children as common commodities, yet she blames.
Ask the Oyos how she sold the Dahomey to the Portuguese for ephemera, Let the Zulus give an account of her stewardship of how she dealt with the Bantus, Kanem-bornu, Mai, Ashantis, Wagadu, Takrur, Malinke, Songhai, Hausa, Benin, Fulanis, Cushites Nilotics, all killed and enslaved one another for pride, yet she ceased not to blame.
She betrays her own tongue yet she claims her voice was silenced, She places less value on her own sons, yet she cries for being marginalized, Among the committees of nations she speaks from the two sides of her own chick, She bowls in secret to the order of the white wizard, yet she stops not to blame same in public.
There are few of her sons that crossed her streets a while ago, Never will history forgets the cry for internal justice of Gamel, Selassie, Nkruma, Garvey, Nyerere, Diop, Lumumba, Azikwe, Toure, Kenyatta, Sankara; she betrayed each of them to death, She splashed their bloods on her walls, yet she blames a distant folk for her own dark heart.
She makes herself an available prey for the western predators, Her walls of defense has she made vulnerable even to a lesser than a state in the Middle East, She prodigally opens her treasure house to the Chinese and the Japanese to exploit, Yet she blames all and sundry for her own presumptuous recklessness.
Ask her, please let her answer, Was she the only one that was colonized? Kingdoms rise and fall, but no sane kingdom remains in the corridor of pitiable self-humiliation, Even the Arabians and Asian tigers have moved on, while she still lament in woes to blame.
Tell her prophets to change the rhythms of their anthems, Casting aspersions and blames on the west is not the way up, Let her priests know of her infectious whoredom around the globe, Her kings and her princes have shared her body in exchange for superfluity of nothingness.
She romances and kisses other cultures and civilization, While other folk garnished their culture with spices of trending technologies, She continues as a wailer trembling under her own shadows of self-intimidation, Her teachers are blamers of less intuition for growth.
Her emperors are callous and bloody on her thrones, Wealth they spread in the hidden corners of Paris and Dubai, She is impoverished yet her gold swims across the waters, To decorates the alien’s cities, yet the blames.
Things fall apart in her balcony, not by accident, Her walls are dilapidated yet she careless, Her children are subject to ridicule within and without, So deaf she is to her offspring cries, but not dumb to blame. Hunger in the tommy, hunger in the mind, hunger everywhere, Sahara and Kalahari left with the bones of her famished children, With all these green forests on the path of Congo and her land that kisses the waters, She has no food for her dying wards, but has all time to blame the invincible.
She is the second to the biggest yet she begs for crumbs from the smallest, Since Ukraine can no longer supply her wheat as usual, she cringes under the yoke of hunger, For how long is she going to depend on smaller folks for survival? How long will she neglect her fertile vast land and stop to blame.
Nature has been so generous to her, yet she blames even the Creator for her own ordeals, She romances the sun than others, yet her streets are darker than the belly of the sea, Her land is impregnated with treasures untold, yet she begs for arms, How long will it take her to realize her own potentials and stop to blame?
Let her look inward, An unbroken wall provides no channel for hospitality to a lizard, Her walls of respect for humanity are broken, Hence the penetration of an opportunist white lizard, yet she blames.
Wake from your sleeping mind oh woman, Chastise your prodigal kings with hot irons, Bring their wondering minds back home to the soil Lest you blame and blame till the cock crow.
The call for unified continental unity on her mind, Which of your nations is internally unified, Ethno-religious crisis in Nigeria, Kenya and the rest, An unsettled home begat unsettled nation and continent alike. Should Ethiopia maintain the capital of your propose unifier, Won’t Egypt, Botswana, Madagascar or Senegal chant a foul play? Smaller ECOWAS has failed to reach her goal, after forty-eight years of her birth, Yet you think of making a mirage a reality? Think before you raise a dust to blame.
Enough is enough, Africa! Pains, tears and hunger we no longer can bear, Worst leadership in the entire human clan, we no longer can endure, Call your princes to order before the fall of your hunchback.
Harness the potentials of Sahara, Namibia and Kalahari to light your dark streets, Engage Nile, Niger, Congo, Orange and Limpopo in a life-long productive assignment, Let the vast savanna be active for internal growth and development of your offspring, And your sons and daughters be bread and nurtured at your corridors.
Despise not your colour for therein lies your strength, Learn from others to replicate goodies on your soil, Select the morally sounds of your sons to mount your thrones, Cause your princes to serve with caution and sincerity of mind.
Then talk of unity when the bustards are tied, Unity is sweet when your prodigal sons are tamed, Peaceful coexistence becomes feasible when your children rest at your bosom, No outward looker, no blaming of others.
Blame less, act fast for your liberty is now, Stop the iron teeth of the Chinese before they bite harder, Trade with the west as partner and not as slave, Blame less, act fast, the clock ticks.
staronthenile 