They tossed them out of moving cars

And quenched them with ease like cigars,
Like water sachets with reckless abandon
They cared not to notice or mention
Our ideas, our passion and dreams
And would not listen to the voice of reason.

They did not consider the future
And it’s uncertain, challenging adventures
And how they need us to ensure it
That there may be water for drink and food to eat
Of course they do not care but for today’s luxury
Their hearts sealed from soundness is filled with debauchery.

They, our ideas, lay there by the roadside
Like food wraps, thoroughly demystified,
Tumbled by the breeze of zooming cars,
Crumpled under the weight of eighteen wheelers,
The sun scorched them out of time
The rain covered them with gross and grime.

They shut their doors and refused us audience
And bred in us souls filled with belligerence,
They sent their watchdogs to keep us out
And matched our pleas with mockery and flout,
They made us stand till the sun burned our minds
And we were lost to thought and out of time.

They lied to us when they came on TV
They showed us promises they fulfilled,
But the potholes still make our hearts beat,
The stagnant ponds still make us cringe,
Mosquitoes have become our bedfellows
And rats, our next door neighbours.

They juggle our breasts and knock our balls together
We still grope in the dark, not sure where our mouths are
And still compete with deafening power engines,
And slow down with fear when crossing overhead bridges
We are not sure of our next step
In place of oranges we are given sour grapes.

They removed the ancient landmarks
And filled the lofty positions with quacks,
To sins we do not know we felt contrite
They made us lose our way in broad daylight
And laughed when we sauntered into ditches,
While they stole away our hard earned riches.

We see Canaan on the news at nine
While bleeding from whip wounds of vine,
And hear milk and honey flowing on radio
While they build mansions in Beijing and Tokyo,
We read of warm bread and beds in the papers
And spend our nights in tents yet bound to fetters.

They taught us to hate Ikedi
Because he works hard to put food on the table,
To hush the voice of Adebayo
Which spits wisdom with such strength and vigour
To despise the footsteps of Mohammed
Because all he wants is to rule over his brethren.

Stand aside Lord, vengeance is ours!
We’ve waited a lifetime, we won’t for another!
They will burn, but not in hell,
They will rotten but not in rat infested cells,
For hell hath no fury to cause their demise,
And no more shall they shut up our outcries!

Since all they know is reap fruits they did not sow
And to step on the fatherless and widows
Since they think they are immune to pain
And loot the treasury for their selfish gains
Holding firm the national moi-moi in their claws
And ripping off truth-sayers with iron-clad jaws,

Dogs will again eat the flesh of Jezebel
And lick her blood from the streets of Jezereel,
We will make flutes from her bones
And sing it at moonlight while reading gnomes,
For the time of reckoning is with us
And the kingdom we will now take by force.

Make gallows, but not for Mordecai
Make sure they are more than fifty feet high,
No more shall innocent blood be drink for Amadioha
No more shall innocent blood grace Ogun’s altar,
No more shall vultures fatten from our flesh,
Today, we are redeemed! Today, we start afresh!

They will die in shame like Sani
And shall be the scorn of ages like Anenih,
Who sunk into darkness for love of wantonness
And made fun from the anguish of innocents,
Who perished from the juice of sweet apples,
And felt the vengeance of saintly rebels.

Sing again the songs of Saro-wiwa
Throw a party instead in the days of their shiva
Tell of whom left his mother’s children to sing
For the promise of gold and diamond ring,
The praise of their slave masters
And rub the feet of their harlot mistresses.

Like the Phoenix, we will rise from the ashes
And wear robes of linen and purple sashes,
Like the mockingbird, we will sing their lies
And warn our children of the tongues laden with guile,
We will rewrite the stars making the world ours,
And take control of our lives, manning the oars!

Like Jannes and Jambres, their time is up
We will loose the wheels on their chariots
And pierce the hoofs of their fast horses
Landing their faces in mud riddled with gorses!

Send a letter to Aso,
Let it ride on the wings of sango,
Paint the walls with these words:
A man of the people is due in your halls,
Your days are numbered, you are found wanting,
For filling people’s lives with sadness and grunting,

Lift up your heads, o ye gates!
Lay down your swords, your powers abdicate!
Be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors!
Or with fury we’ll send you crashing to the floor!
Tomorrow is here, tomorrow is come!
It’s time to be leaders we’re born to become!

Saddam Ninhor.