From Jerusalem
to Madina
To the land of
those cursed with the idea of slave trade
down to Zaria, across
Ekiti and the streets of Nnewi
Words were cast
in iron,
on parchment of
scrolls,
tablets of
stone and the heart of those in search
of an identity,
the essence of existence, the cradle of life, the omnipotent
of mountains
molded before their forbearers were conceived
Battles were
fought, allegiance pledged
Then from across
the seas
with mirrors of
deception, umbrellas of delusion, liquor and the holy books
masters found
slaves and lands to covet
mission
accomplished as colonials spread their intention over brotherhood
By hook or
crook
slaves found
their voice, freedom and a nation to call their own
Alas! Boundaries
were marked with the same tool that buried brotherhood
along the
boundary-lines
Masters sailed
back home with spoils of colonization
Then unity was
veiled beneath the scars of unhealed wounds and tribal marks
that will later
tear them apart
Questions were asked,
truth masked in vague answers to recurring questions
Yet unmasked in
the dark corners of history, begging to be told…
Now close your
eyes
imagine death
and the vanity it heralds
imagine a country
without boundary, bigotry, tribal rivalry
a nation where
the knot of brotherhood is firmly tied
across land and
sea
through unity
of purpose of a people who see through clear waters of one identity
and the destination
is not banished to the North, East, South, West
or some other region
rounded-up in the confusion we call Middle-Belt
Answer the
question or question the question
yet, questions
without answers will give birth to more questions
or answers that
will not quench the thirst of those who wonder
why there are no
answers to those questions the federation says we dare not ask
forbidden
questions like
why are we here?
what is the
purpose of this union?
or why are we stuck
in this Garden of Eden?
yet forbidden
to think the answers we seek may be found in Ahiara
in the cracks
of broken dreams of those resolute men
and the echoes
of their declaration at the sight of the rising sun
The answers we seek
may be found in the lineage of Arewa
from the
Sultanate of Sokoto to the Emirate of Kano
or in the
sacred town of Ile-Ife which they call the cradle of life
Perhaps the
answers we seek may be found
in the strength
of their confederate called Nigeria
Be at liberty
to put a rope to my neck
drag me to the
pages of her constitution, beaten to submission of individual intention
or shove down
my throat, tasteless speeches of self-seeking freedom fighters
Before you put
that rope
take a peep
into the effort of founding fathers
who shed sweat
and blood in the battle for freedom, equity and a nation
where equality
will reign supreme
So, cut me lose
and lighten my path with the lightening of Amadioha
to go East and
tell of the dark cloud ahead
if we will not
look away from the rising sun and unite with kindred on the other side
in this fight
for one identity…
or look to the
rising sun for inspiration and wisdom for emancipation
void of the drumbeat
of war
Quicken my feet
with the untamed speed of the horses at durbar
to head North
and join their cavalry
in this battle
for one identity
as the time has
come to rise above the dust of tribalism, egotism and religion…
raised when we
dug the pit deep enough to bury unity
Hand it to me,
the axe of Sango
To strike a
balance between self and others
Summon courage
to swim the tides of tolerance
across Niger
and Benue down to the West
to persuade Omo
Oduduwa to unite with their kindred beyond the bridge
as we go
head-to-head in this battle for one identity
Now open your
eyes
look to the
rising sun
maybe you too will
find an inspiration
By - Deji Ige
