by David Kunle Agunbiade (DKA)
A MERE SHADOW
It was 1960.
The stars seduced the night
with its arresting brightness.
The moon glowed
like an expectant bride.
The skies blushed.
The first day of
the tenth month.
A history-making Saturday,
at the stroke of midnight.
The British flag descended,
hoisted was one draped in
green and white
proclaiming the birth of a
new Nation.
Like Gardenias in bloom,
the sweet scent of hope
filled the air,
fluttering hearts,
moving feet.
It is 2022.
Hearts are sore,
feet have turned to clay.
peace lies still in a grave,
and posterity is imperilled by wars.
Wars unleashed on
schoolgirls
by murderous raiders
from the forests of
Sambisa.
Wars unleashed on
farmers
by men in turbans,
spilling blood
and stealing lands
to nourish their herds.
Wars unleashed on innocents
by heartless gangs
who maim and murder
without remorse,
victims unable to pay
their ransom.
Wars unleashed by agents of state,
on helpless citizens,
humiliated and persecuted,
not protected
as civilization demands.
The cage called a country,
aspirations are in chains,
dreams lie in dungeons.
The best and brightest
pound the streets,
sandals worn and torn,
seeking opportunities
colonised by a privileged class.
Angry and disillusioned,
they shun the fatherland in droves
for foreign lands.
Who can blame them?
A nation no longer noble,
politicians pilfer with pride,
poverty is spread
like a virus.
Her glory lies in the gutters,
peace is forfeited for power,
people are pawns
used and abused
by leeches called leaders.
A nation once great,
a giant among nations
is now a mere shadow
of her promised
but withered greatness.
©️ by David Kunle Agunbiade (DKA)
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