This is not the right time to write a good about Nigeria
but one can’t just keep mute and watch these thieves
loot what is left of the wealth in our area.
It’s pathetic how they come to us like butterflies and turn out to be mosquitoes-leaving our children to die of malaria.
And if you ask what’s the criteria, foodstuffs and sweet words is all it takes to enslave my fellow Nigerians.
But fellow Nigerians! Before we come crying that they are cutting out coats according to their area, let’s learn to discern traitors from tailors before giving out materials.

I’m not here to talk politics. Not here to bore you with policies or no policies; how one has stolen so much that he can afford thousands of dollars for polishing-polishing shoes that one did not have to wear to school. Screw those stories.

I’m only here to remind us
that no matter how dark and demonic this land becomes, it’s the only one we ca proudly call ours.
I know my land is broken; chattered dreams, hope bleak like words unspoken.
I know my country is falling, her children are becoming foreign, her economy is falling and even her pictures hanging on the walls of our world are quite appalling but my country is coming-
slowly but steady, my country is growing. \and just like gold before the days of glory, she’s growing through furnace for the glory to come.

See my land is a beautiful girl,
she looks old and weak but that’s because she’s been through hell.
Basically because she’s been brutally broken, bruised and used,
cheated, reaped and so abused
but my land is a queen in the making.
And this is her period.
Her period to pee blood. Menstruation- one way she mends situations
and I’m glad the color she’s bleeding.
She’s bleeding green- the color of a queen
about to begin.

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