The street might have not taste our strength
because we are holed up in captive
...
Behind the bar as i stood alone with my thought
I could see the life of my people
In misery and agony fighting for freedom.
How they are humiliated and discriminated
...
The hope is gone
The four corner of the street
Had tasted the sweet and bitter part of
Our crying blood in horror.
...
The rotten smelling pigs of the twenty first century
With characteristics of Geoge Orwell Pig 'Nepoleon'.
Bad leaders in a paradise humming in disgust
They made us hopeless not life.
...
I could recall the epic journey of my ancestors
With palm oil in their lips and kola nut in their mouths.
They all wore the ancestral rope down on their waist
down the mountain of wisdom and bravery
...
Come with me to the shrine
Let us deliberate on the plight
Of our beloved country,
The gods are waiting to hear from us.
...
You can't buy my conscience
it worth more than a million
you can't buy my emotions
It is for my people.
...
As we drink peacefully under the moon
With a long cow's horn caved beautifully
We also dip our hands in one plate
With smiling faces and beautiful fingers
...
Have you seen my uncle?
Uncle Okadigbo, huge, tall, and yellow
Skinned like a riped mango with enough water and air.
He was among those abducted by the terrorist
...
My tomorrow is died
They have taken that which
Nature endowed me with
I am left violated and in despair.
...