My name is Keliah Jameswood. Returning home couple of years ago. Keliah had realised the state of the nation, the status quo of the poor, the masses and how the elites in power altered the pleasant structure laid down by fallen heros. And, Grandpa narrated how it all went down in centuries ago.
He was a witness of the narrative, the struggle for justice, the fight with the majority for power and authority; subjecting the citizens to either good or evil, the fate of the future decided by unholy hearts and here we are facing the consequences of wrong choices.
Keliah was nosy to understand the processes, the actions and inaction of men in century past and why the new generation were left behind to the effect. It was like the wheel broken at the cistern. And no one is left to turn the driving wheel in the right order.
Keliah was with Grandpa on a blissful evening. Grandpa had just finished reading through his newspaper a daily routine as though he was getting prepared for an external exam. He had loved journalism, listening and viewing news about current issues.
Grandpa walked majestically to the dinning table where Keliah approached him to narrative to her the story of the Unholy Hearts. This was a title of a book kept at the shelves.
I was brought low in tears, when I saw the pain and weariness of the masses; for so long, kept in the dark and rulers already turning the casting wheel of our dear land into broken pieces, we lost everything, our gold, silver and resources. Everything was gone.
-KeliahJameswood-
Grandpa sat adjacent Keliah's direction where she sat and were both facing each other was though Keliah was at the seat of judgement. The book of Chronicles, was the bold written size letters that tagged the shelves where all of Grandpa's ancient books were kept. In between, Keliah singeled out THE UNHOLY HEARTS, as Grandpa gave a synopsis of the entire book.
Keliah came through returning back to her position where she formally seat. The book was indeed dusty, Grandpa had kept it in as his intellectual property. Keliah opened as instructed by Grandpa and these were the lines that buttressed the synopsis.
It reads thus:
After all the raking and ranting
It amounted to wasted promises
After all the sweet-tailed coated words
Obviously, it resulted into deceit in emptiness
They ensare the masses with "IF(s) and DO(s),
Only to dig deep the well if denial and betrayal
Unholy Hearts.
Waving defiled hands to pity peasants
Appearing in expensive patches called clothes
On tinted rude accompanied by respected guards
Only to turn the clock anti-clock wise
Afflictig the homelands
From abroad, whose anus is at home in disguise
These acts were ordered in reverse manner
Against the demands of the people
Unholy Hearts
Our hearts leaped in joy
When we heard from afar
"We shall build our broken walls
We shall restore olthe dignity of our country
We shall be heard for progress and development
We shall make our fatherland great again".
They become enemies to darkness overnight
An antidote to corruption, oppression and poverty
Yet! with their kleptomaniac fingers
And looting hands
Without vision and mission
They gradually left scars that pierced apart
The plight of the common man
In our homelands, they became masters
With intentions untold
Unholy Hearts.
"How could these things be" Keliah sorrowfully asked Grandpa with her head raised up in sorrow. She was like a golden to piece astonished on the weird story written in lines and wondering how they came through as though they were prophesies. Grandpa was 25 years old when witnessed the campaign, and so called propaganda as few experts would call it in our times. At the then era, Grandpa fought for the truth with the few minority elites as well. But all effort was to no avail. Our voices choked, overthrown by majority who felt their decisions and choices could avert the plight the new generation are now into. Grandpa added.
Keliah continued, reading through the book of Chronicles in the title UNHOLY HEARTS.
In the heat of the battlefield
They fortook the words of the destitue
Whom they affirmed
The hope and furlture of tomorrow
The residents resources and treasures
Oil Land and Farm Quarters
All locked in rancorous exploitation
No, left aside to reap the defects
We never showed into
Unholy Hearts
Remind me of the masses cake
Shared in equal proportion mathematically
With their X(s) and Y(s) in vary secret cocoons
While our women and children
Wine and dine with the sibling called poverty
And death continually
All these, a vexation to my spirit
And a displeasure to humanity
Unholy hearts!!!
Grandpa ended with the saying of Abraham Lincoln and it reads thus:
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Written by: Peter Iyamah
ALL IMAGES USED IN THIS FICTION POETRY POST WERE EXTRACTED FROM PIXABAY AND GOOGLE IMAGES
