Day87 #365daypoetrychallengeforadvocacyandsocialchange Our cloths have torn Our hairs grown bushy Bones emaciated and legs swollen Muscles displaced And our vision discouraged... The path behind us looks abandoned by haggard legs, Bushy as if untrodden See, our babies have died...
Day87
#365daypoetrychallengeforadvocacyandsocialchange
Our cloths have torn
Our hairs grown bushy
Bones emaciated and legs swollen
Muscles displaced
And our vision discouraged...
The path behind us looks abandoned by haggard legs,
Bushy as if untrodden
See, our babies have died
Our kids starved
Our boys imprisoned
Our girls raped
Husbands and wives betrayed
And the aged disappointed...
Yet the eyes of our polity bulges like the blind statues of Nok Culture
We used to have hopes,
But they are now tired in the arms of abortion
The promises of independence have become stillborn;
Mutilated with the bamboo of corruption.
Even the wishes that once painted our eyelids
Are beginning to wear away
Yet the senses of our constitution have breathed only heat on the sore skins of our destinies
The song of the national flag has become the loudest noise sung by toothless leaders;
A pirate declaration to our unity in diversity
Our capital cities are plinths of self aggrandizement,
And the language of policy making erodes Hausa, Yoruba and Igbo...
It is unidentifiable in the intestines of our law makers
Our fears now fashion agbada wears in the National Assembly.
Yet the saviours of our land are mounting terrorist dreams to the continuity of our days
Oh my Nigeria!
Tell us that we will see the key to unlock the truth of independence
Tell us that we will board the flight that travels to solidarity
That we will swim in the waters of posterity.
And that our dresses will open zips into the joys of the future
Where every man's seat will worth the size of his buttocks,
And every man's shoes, the size of his legs
If we settle in today's comfort
Then, this comfort will not be comfortable with tomorrow's efforts. If we believe in the high strides of now,
Then the quick waves of the next will be too heavy to keep us standing strong
So, we better rise up and cast the dice
And dip it in the farmlands of productivity...
For the heritage of our working hands will not die in the passion of our developing growth
Tydale Bassey Abigail is a Nigerian poet and novelist.
She lives in Calabar, Nigeria. She has written over two hundred poems in the last two years. Her poem "Goal" won the second position for the Sprinklestoriez Poetry Prize, 2018.
Her aim is towards reconstructing a history of Africa in use of poetry. Apart from that, she writes to encourage the African girl child to engage in productive education in a world were female determination is almost relegated.
She is also a historian
