SEVEN & FIFTY YEARS AFTER(On Nigeria's Independence)
Oti Egwu
The struggle was but over,
The white men had whisked away,
And dawn ushered in a new song of freedom
With rising applause & hymns of praises; --
For a country was born,
A Nation in the heart of the sahara.
With sunset at bay,
Light was pumped into the blackness of the dark,
As the world rallied to hail the new face of Africa;
The one nation that would pull the black race atop;
For she looked so pretty, lustred and compellingly elegant,
Seducing humanity at the time to look up to her.
But few years down the line,
She became a yawning facade;
A boastful king with a lost garland,
Fluffing & botching in all endeavours,
And traversing in rue and ruins,
Thus, leaving her countrymen to hue & cry.
So Fifty-seven years after,
She continue to flight the stairs backwards,
After being hijacked by tribesmen & the gullible political class.
For she has been stifled hauntingly to an almost dead end.
How would she untie this Gordian knot?