NIGERIA at 61 yet we remain stagnant, we suffer but yet we keep voting, hoping and expecting a better day. We heard the story and we still believe in it that Nigeria will be good.
Churches are uncountable and mosque but industry are few.
Though good number suffer some lose,
Yet I am lost within storms of thoughts,
trying to define how a little baby may live alone.
I may not get the complete sense of independence,
I am confused perhaps as days keeps,
Flipping through the pages of time.
I know a good number of little ones,
In the North, South, East and West,
Well, they survive with good heads,
While others never fold their arms.
At Sixty,
I thought my nation will awake,
Like a primip to a labour room.
Well,
we never fail to surprise other nations,
They expect little from a lamed leadership.
Though many blame followers as well.
Only countless of them know,
How many lives decaded in the Forest.
And how many houses burnt off with tears,
as gunmen raid the beauty of their mornings.
They may tell how insecurity injected griefs to our faces.
How little ones were made orphans,
On a very bright Sunday noon.
They may tell about Endsars protest.
How our leaders turned deaf ears to our cries,
And how our smiles triggered the guns.
Well, I won't say much my nation.
I know there are holes in your ears,
You may only just decide not to listen..
You are getting old,
And Bandits are getting bold.
Can you for the sake of the deads,
And living deads,
Make your new year put smiles to our faces?
We plead.
Thanks for reading.