The land is a year older today.
Yes, it is!
Right from the memory of the day
we pushed the great B’s hand off our mouth
and decided to feed with our own hand,
that was the day, we thought the voices of our
independence had been heard.
That was the day, we dance in ignorance of
jubilation, thinking we’ve met victory!
That was the
day, we thought freedom had finally come to dine with us.
That was day, we sing of a great success, not
knowing our voices would soon sink
with extinct-education, corrugated-corruption, rotten-economy
and leaking-living!
Ever since then,
“The land is a year older today” we do say ‘nually!
We praise its old
clocking age seasonally.
We celebrate it as costume demands.
We sing it like a ritual of rightly rite.
We honour it with our Oro-space.
Though, with the heart inside us burning.
Though, with our conscience mourning.
Though, with our mouth wide open without grains.
Though, with the fear of hunger crippling us hard.
Though, with the shame from the sound of our
praises.
The land is a year older today.
Yes, it is again today!
Just as we were in the horror of economy,
Just as we were in the crave of sorrow,
Just as we were in our crawling limps,
Just as we were in fate of a light hereafter,
So is today, a day of a year addition.
So is today, a day of a year perdition.
So is today, a day, we start to count tales.
So is today, a day, we are blind folded of where to
go!
The land is a year older today.
Yes, it is!
What are we to praise of its aging existence
When the ugly ones cry of their spoilt beauty?
What in the name are we to praise
When the ABIKUs cry of their staying-suffering here?
What are we to count for as a message
When cowries had crossed the Rubicon?
What on earth are we to say of these groaning
When the voices from the market square puncture
and perforate my heart-skin?
The land is a year older today, we Octobise!
Sir Dan 07061967063
buah.dansabekuni@gmail.com
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