Sometimes in MAY, when the rains have reached the ground and the people east of the royal Niger territories have gone into their farms, and farm work have started in earnest, we remember.
when the indigenes of eke land are anticipating their igwa nshi and the noble people of Igbo and beyond are being invited, we remember.
We remember and our faces glitter with a smile that's most short lived, the day our fathers thought it was all over. The day we thought that the end of our sufferings is come, the day we thought that our sons, and brothers will not be killed anymore simply because of insurgency. We remember and our faces did blossom with smile but quickly clouded with Jupiter's sorrows.
Yes it gets clouded when we recall that this dreaded disease will not let us be, when we recall that our soldiers are still out there, that the cry of chibok girls do fill our ears, We do cry. When we recall that we are still meat to Boko-Haram, we cry.
Sometimes in MAY, just before the month of June, we always recall the radio announcement "Bomb blast in Kano state, over 100 people died in a bomb blast at Abuja, bomb blast in catholic church at Niger state" and we do sorrow.
Sometimes in May, when the sounds of the wooden gong do awaken our memories, We look baffled by the present reality, if it is a great felony to live without fear in your nation? The thoughts do flummox our senses, when we recall that our brothers have given up their lives in other to restore peace in this nation, and we do cry.
Oh peace, dear peace, stealthily we stand at your door, and with all the beauty of Saturn and the glories of Venus, we do cry you open thy door for us.
Who will redeem us from these sorrows, and take away these insurgency from us and bring us again to the days our fathers enjoyed?
Must we be coerced to become one nation, with the people who we are not related to, though with our hearts we love them.
It's almost the end of MAY again, and we sit in the ashes and weep with the sacks over us. Knocking at peaceful door.
