Saturday, 2 August 2014

On the day before we died

On the day before we died
Ghetto felt like heaven as we grew with pride
We were kids, beautiful souls, children of the most High
Fear of evil, future heros, afraid to tell lies
Talk about harmony, I remember how we lived
Mud castles and warrior stories we strongly believed
We felt loved and walked tall no matter where we roam
I would sleep off at the waziri’s and wake up at home
Firmly, We were family, like we shared the same hut
play husband and wife, police and thief till we get caught
Then retire home to eat from our mothers’ pot
Then things changed, we hung peace on our own iroko
Strangled our love with our own hands
Placed our hope on coma
And Left with tiny chance to heal our land
Now mum says i can’t play wit them and dad nods its true
Avoid kunle, sadiq, chima and Fatima too
That They have marks on their faces unlike you
With Different religion, language, tradition and school
But On the day before we died
We had the chance to live and avoid death
Forgive ourselves and put hate aside
And finally Wash ourselves of prejudice before the sunset
This is that day.
Sic.Nwanguma Ogo . Culled from Dtmiil.wordpress.com

3 comments:

  1. so true! yet so unfortunate thar kids of this age don't enjoy the privilege of living without tradition, religion or language or culture as barrier. when will this phase pass?

    ReplyDelete
  2. yes Adaora, wonder what our kids make of the world we are leaving behind for them.

    ReplyDelete