When I wrote this Poem in 2015, having seen the trend of the new government in Nigeria, and juxtaposing it with what we experienced in 1983 when the present set of leadership was on the control of the affairs of the State, we had warned of the dire consequences that will befall the nation. Fast-forward to 2019; nobody will tell another that we had looked at the coming events in Nigeria from 2015 with crystal glass.
THE GOLD IN SILENCE HAS BEEN DESECRATED
What calamity has befallen my people?
The brightness of the days has turned drear.
The freshness of yesterday has become grey;
and an omen of unimaginable proportion has befallen my people:
yet we pretend as if all is well: for there is none that it is all well.
Like the wailing of a child that has lost a loved one,
I cried out before the grey light of down darkened our shores;
that 1983 was not an Eldorado in Nigeria:
in a proportion, the ominous shadow of 2015,
when fully unleashed, would make 1983 a child fair.
Men are gnashing their teeth in need of family sustenance
as each new day have in its wings tales of sorrows,
of pains, and hopelessness of what it tends to deliver.
I could still see and feel the jackboot worn, in the shadow
of the sandal, the maximum Authoritarian is wearing now
Our currency has been desecrated and not worth its paper value,
and the prices of essential goods have plummeted sky high.
Our hopes and dreams of a boosted livelihood
got dashed upon the plate of political exigency.
Why are my people rinsing their faces with spittle at
the bank of the river that is affluent with freshness?
They are been goaded gullibly deeper into an abysmal cauldron,
But what causes this sublimed docility of the people, I paused to ponder;
The depravity inherited from poverty-induced psychic
as a result of decades of oppressive jackboot reign
foisted upon a once noble and enterprising people.
They say silence is golden, but when gold has lost its value
It will be a mere tare that will only be valuable on a thoroughfare
We should break our silence to say it the way it ought to be said
Our collective silence is a tacit endorsement of the Dark Age.
The gold in the silence will be trodden upon and desecrated.
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