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By Amadi Njoku
Days chameleon to weeks, weeks into months
swiftly months become years to yield yet another coterie of “representathieves.”
Chants of campaign pierce the sullen sky
the streets bear their posters, the marketplaces
sing their praise on the lips of buyers
as the media herald their pretense.
They are Judases of mandates
slaying our hope of yearned utopia;
men whose presences reinforce those ugly years we have bid adieu.
In trust they bear our common mandates
to steer this sutured vessel of scattered tribes
into the land of milk and honey;
their words are sweet savours that clasp our charmed ears.
What manner of guise have they not used
professing to be the Christs that will save the impoverished masses?
They are Judases of mandates
masked by party allegiance and maddening greed,
great promisers of Heaven and Earth.
To get into the corridor of power
they bind our resistance with sweet promises
like a man in between a woman’s bosom
because they want the pinnacle of life’s orgasm
only to cast us into the endless void of lack and want.
They are Judases of mandates that wear the boot of power
ruthlessly crushing the feeble ribs of the weak;
perfidious foes who clothe lies in useless euphemism
to plunder the purse they should grow for the good of all.
They are the grey-hair vultures, our pot-belly “padicrats”
purporting to have the cure-all for our ills
but are too weak to break the carapace of hardship.
