If you see father Ken Saro Wiwa
Tell him about me as a mouth to his songs,
Tell him that they have removed the meat
He gave to us and gave us grasses;
Dirty grasses to replace our milky meat,
We are not cows, then, why would they bring
grasses for us to chew in public ?
Our smokes are stricted from moving out,
Our kitchens has been turned to oil well,
Our mother’s mortar taken far away land.
Tell Buchi Emecheta that we have no water
To drink even land to farm our crops now.
Our air is stinking with dark sticky viscous liquid.
They said it is a mixture of holy gases,
Its looks like liquid and solid hydrocarbons,
Impurities of surphur, nitrogen and oxygen!
The words coming out from their teeth suck.
Exploitation of our wings are done by the cows;
Beautiful cows in a beautiful dresses to suite.
The search for oil has killed many with Geologists.
They eat Naptha here and there with Kolas,
They wear paraffin oil as their bangles,
Petrochemicals are the eyes that loots their pride.
More funny cows are sitting on crude now,
More cows own more oil well than the goats.
When will the goats be given chance to speak?
If you see father Ken Saro Wiwa beyond,
Tell him that our creeks are baptised sinfully,
Our hands are tied behind us to keep shut.
If the going get tougher and rougher here,
If the sky visit us as promised with a new rain,
We will break out from this caged pleasure
To a place of rest looking at the rising half sun.
—- Another Voice stronger.
John Chizoba Vincent
P. S – comments and criticism are welcome