Picture of painting at Bogobiri house

the hand and the neck

this is what we have become:
the hand that refuses to
scratch the itch on the neck

because according to history,
the neck has never fought for the hand

and we learn silence
as a voice of neutrality
as a song of unconcern
as a sound of vengeance

forgetting that an itch
could become a pox
that swallows the entire body

and on the tombstone
of a country that died
over its differences,
it will be written in bold fonts:

"a dead body does not
have a living hand"