And the tales of woes continue,
The cries and gnashing of teeth,
The helplessness and the limbo,
Of the citizens with nowhere to turn.

A life, a wish, they pant,
But in prevalence is the political cant,
Insouciant they become as the death toll mounts,
Another day, another cry in the offing?

The hues and cries of the citizens,
Camaraderie... Lost and long forgotten,
To your mother's tent the byline now,
Aren't we moving closer to the divisive line?

Oyo burns, new deaths are born,
Rails and shouts in crescendo it rises,
Patience definitely is lost worn,
As phoenix, can we, as a nation, again rise?


Reno Omokri

Change we bought;
Strange they have become;
The broom we crave;
Over the dismal doom we rave,
The future looking bleak,
Without in sight is the hope to the peak.

Change we bought;
Strange they have become;
Insensitivity their aura; in bliss they sprawl;
Dejection our collective wail;
Mien changing with ostensible frail;
To God in heaven we rail.

Change we bought;
Strange they have become;
In resplendent garb they rock;
In pain and strain we sprain our hope;
Yet, in pullulation they mock;
Privation the bane with fierce bliss of killing rope.

Prayer she wants; higher rung they deprive;
Imprecations we have; repose in hope
What we want from them, the reprieve



The whole nation, Nigeria, as well as those associated with the country perhaps by birth or bilateral association, was plunged into plaintiveness and melancholy when the Chief of Army Staff, Late Lt. Gen. Attahiru, together with 10 gallant soldiers as…

Stream of blood plies the route,

Unceasing as more came in tow,

Of the killings and the incessant attacks,

Their lives matter, shouldn’t we speak out?

On a quotidian basis the news filters,

Of gory news and sordid pictures,

Of the dead burying their dead,

Their lives matter, shouldn’t we lend our voices?

The children hacked and mutilated,

Brain opened and stomach eviscerated,

Bodies dissected all for game,

No excuse for the killings however lame.

Shouldn’t we cry and raise the crescendo?

Shouldn’t we hit the streets and make it known?

How siblings are cut short and lives truncated,

How tranquility is upset but ambience of melee,

Their lives matter, please, lend a voice.

A wailing wailer we have been tagged,
A howling wind that portends no good,
A creeping nymph that pecks at the bond,
A fissure created, exploited for use.

The country was beautiful we were told,
Utopian and bliss people lived,
Ethnicity just a name,
Unity they bugled with attendant resounding fame.

In lugubrious state we rue the days of yore,
A distant story recounted with smirking mien,
They lived it but no reciprocation,
In hollow wallow we cry, no one try to pry.

A country of yesteryears,
The past more beautiful than the present
Those years might be better than we will hope,
No incentive but man for himself,
Rudderless we become, buffeted by the wind of life.

The Amazon turned tattered

Reddened face, devoid of cry,
No more eye drop as she has cried to denial,
She shouted herself hoarse of her travails,
She can only be raped and battered…responses of her children

Vices assailing, extrication ticklish,
Our humanity frittered, we remain brutish,
Despite our differences in it lies our uniqueness,
All man for himself, a piece of her healthiness we pilfer.

Nigeria, we hail thee,
Cry no more as optimism pervades,
Rescue we will embark to detoxify her,
As we move gregariously on that path of redemption.

Redemption that leads to regeneration,
A change of circumstance hither and thither,
We await it as we move to engender the change


They creaked and tweaked under the debilitating pain,

Their blood and sweat were unending in grueling rain,

To establish a future and a country we could call ours,

How termites of avarice eat deep in their souls?

Our forebears appealed and beseeched us,

To own this country lest in shame we perish,

For the privileged kings and queens will scowl from the lofty horse,

Our future must we with dignity pursue and cherish.

From them must we with pen and mental sword take this country back,

Owning and holding a stake in her quick regeneration,

For this bleeding and metastasis must with alacrity end,

Lest our future and happiness go on a severe bend


Babatunde Oyeyemi

B.A., M.A., PhD in view (English Language), Girl-Child Education Advocate, Volunteer @ AsherShuz initiative, Poet, Opinion writer.

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