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We are not complaining of your failed promises, not of how you rip us apart in taxes, not how the nation’s treasury you personalize…for what do we deserve to die? For our forbearance? For coming to be one with darkness? For gathering the certificates which only qualify us to kick rotten skulls of our kinsmen? Be human for once and don’t add to our woes!


Leed-das! Heaven please, once and for all, let us die with our enemies who actually are our blood-das! – delighted in the how animals worth than our lives. Our sin-stars! – crafted in designing how we die. Our farthers! – touring the world while we decay and rot at home. Our murders! – prostrating to euro-nations to conceal their blood steps.
2000! 11 years have passed from that year with pinches of five patches when I wore the shoes that sip lives now in Plateau, except that mine was in Kaduna. Kaduna or Plateau, we are a nation – at least so we were told.


A myth we’ve believed every day of the lives of our ancestors into ours; of Obafemi Awolowo into the blood of Tafawa Balewa into the slitted throat of Aguyi Ironsi, and the tale continues of our woes, knees glued to earth yet that one day, we should be a nation. ‘Maybe our children shall see the day of one Nigeria’ the fake faith that fated our fathers and today into tomorrow fates us!
Shame! A nation with leaders who led their future to its grave!
Think! How much more do we have to kill? How many more thousands or millions or billions more would this earth eat of our sons, daughters, expected presidents and leaders to be filled? Just name their crime and I shall have them sentenced to more death after the death you already ‘curse’ them.


Were they the looters? Do you not know the looters’ homes, parties and planes to fold? Where have we gone wrong?
What nation shreds her own glories before her face? My nation! Eleven years after my woes have seen tens of thousands of children, glories of the future we seek sunk in mass burial! One after the other, the enemy within is slicing down our relevance, our place in the map of the world. Tell me. Will we ever see the days we heard of; when we were a people, a country before we became this cunt-reel?
We are the orphans of the world! Yet we have a father, farther.


Akinsimoye Samuel Omoniyi


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