Sunday, July 22, 2018
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t is rudderless and drifting in a break-neck pattern,
devoid of anchor and unable to berth
as palls of dark cloud hover overhead
and grim-faced sky heaves a silent inaudible sigh.
Open her Pandora box,
you will observe with disgust,
a clan of nauseating cankerworms swirling,

Erosion of peace and rule of law hold sway.
Needs have become luxurious wants,
stomach infrastructures are dilapidated
and churning can no longer function
because no bird sings when hungry.
Citizens are squeezed dry to the marrow

They sleep to forget their sorrows.
And lo, in spite of all the litany of woes,
I still love the country,
and of all the blessings I enjoy, the greatest
is being born to a Nigerian family.

A country, worthy of a liberal university
where one acquires multiple skills,
the greatest, being how to make hell a home.
A talent as rare as hen�s teeth
in other nations of the world.

Let the music play, weak and weary
as they seem and crazed with hunger
with no food to fill their bellies,
will engage their feet in graceful dance.
Visit his hut,
he shares the remnant of his palm wine
with you.

When disappointments and despairs
knock at his door, he surrenders to hope,
when hope fails him,
he takes refuge under the umbrella of faith,
and when faith delays for long,
he converts all adversities
into a brilliant rainbow of life.
I have chosen plain words to address a sorry state.