Night was what we used to blame when crime was only a child,
A faceless infant, carved in a valley with no identity.
He sometimes crawl out, avoiding long stares, snarling at the closest of prey.
So we gave this facelessness a common name ‘criminal,’
Crimes were an outcast, enjoined by just a name.
They were going to die if they had only lived in this cave, if they had been trapped in the darkness of the night.
But it was nurtured, gracefully, using the passion of tribe and game of politics.
Crime became not what it was, it became a glorified stream with different channels,
It grow and grow after every rainfall.
Crime became a responsible man that visits us even at noon, morning, and night
He becomes blameless if his reign doesn’t touch our domain, he’s from a known clan.
You don’t say criminals, they are bandits, bokoharam, kidnappers and they are not bastards.
And with respect, laced with fear we shorten their name if their uncles are closed by,
BK is not fatherless, they are our father’s children, tainting the white in our father’s flag.
You do not send away a legitimate child, his circumcision was even done by your mother.
This is a cross carved by my nation, there can’t be one bearer.
People are storing their tears on a can, hoping to let it flow when these visitors leave.
But how do you denounce a child, you have loudly called son?
Where do we run to when our wall sings the worship of fear?
For how long will this silent wails thrive?
Parents are assured daily of no guarantee that their children would live,
Nigeria birthed criminals are in a fix, they don’t know what they are doing,
So our leaders forgive them as we await their recovery,
When they will realize again that they don’t need a reason to kill,
And that patriots doesn’t need a reason to run,
in this country we are always on a race.
We have come again in bend heads and flaming candles.
Surrounding areas affected by the recent drought,
Do not save this tears in cans as usual, let it flow till heaven hears thy cry,
Allow its echoes to reach all spheres of this nation till it’s awoken.
We bring with us bags filled with hope, the system is failing, this can’t die too.
The NDA’s door was built with concrete, our family’s door is doorless; so today we will remember to open our eyes if we would sleep.copied.
