These portraits slowly smudge the smiles that lit the streets
where our fathers loved, lived and thrived.
Violence is fueled on sensible and senseless plains
In the name of brazen gods and a common God called peace
Guns blaze while cutlasses fly in the air cutting down destinies
Herdsmen hide under false pretences to raise fights as farmers rise
Dying as people forget the price of the human life
Bandits bully everyone covered by genial graces no one understands
Elsewhere, politics, poverty, hunger and hate become arsenals that fuel spite
People forget their voices and raise violence…
In the Delta, people leave peace to live for others to die
As victims fall, relations rise like the phoenix to avenge them
Brotherhood becomes a flash of memory
Lost in countless wounds that our warring knives
Cut into our destiny…
When bOmBs flash our knowledge away
indigenes slap settlers off
tongues join to shoot bu-bu-bu-bu-l-lets…
and our land is destroyed…
in the silence of those who should lead our charge
What trust will remain to bind
our souls to the love that once lifted our land?
On the fringes of our nightmares, we endure pain
But reprioritizing our values will give us gain
If we give peace a chance, drum love, sing to our diverse souls
Then sum it with forgiveness, harmony’s dance.
Does the road lead to another’s abode?