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By Samuel Opaniyi
They have come again
From their bloody wars
Their boots full of pride
Pride of lies and failure
Pride of lies to bribe our minds like a bride.
They have come again
With their luxury gifts,
Gifts to mask our penury
In the presence of their cameras.
When you ask them
Ask them of what they’ve brought in their baskets
They’ll tell you, it’s full of Akara, beans cake covered,
Covered with stones and bullets,
Bullets shot at us on our roads and on the rail.
Stoning us in the heart,
The heart of our innocence
Given to them as our pride.
They have come again
Coming to us in their white Agbada
White, which never represents the true colour of their minds
White Agbada, housing their protruding bellies
Full of rots, rots derived from our worth
White Agbada, standing for their wealth
To slap our deaths,
Deaths of grieve and poverty
Poverty caused by their liberty,
Liberty stolen from us for their puberty
Yes! They have come again
Like before, and before, and before.
Coming again to us like an arrogant husband
To his long forsaken wife;
To swim his wondering penis in her deluded vagina
And take her pride without consideringher price.
They have come again
With their sweet lexis
In borrowed baban riga from the North
On an Eastern body;
In their borrowed Ankara from the West
On a Northern body;
In their borrowed Isiagu from the East
On a Western body:
All a game of deceit to repeat our defeat
They have come again
To bestow upon our heads
Another pots of poverty and dusty peace in quatrains.
In pieces they’ve cut us and rent us to our neighbours
To pay their traceless debts _
As a property of poverty to our
children unborn.
Oh! They have come again
With their theatre of words
On their constructed stage of blood,
Blood, never theirs, but ours
In their putrefying tongues
To leave us delusional as usual,
As usual yet, not mutual.
Yes! They have come again
And they’ll continue to come
If we do not stop them.
This time around, stop them.
Stop them _ reject their lexis
And demand for their scrotum
Before you assure them your PVC.
Stop them _ reject their Naira
And demand for their castle.
Stop them _ give no face to them
But wait to put up your votes
To decide their fates
And give ourselves the face we deserve.
