Whispers From The Waif Poem by Adeosun Olamide

In Nigeria
-Bombs are strapped on kids,
The kids are driven to schools,
To markets and dropped off-
Dropped off to be ripped apart
-They look around seeing other kids play
They strive to join,
But the vest draws them slow
Just then the tickling bomb goes off-
And their ribs and lungs are torn apart,
I have seen them,
Their shattered brain on earth,
On me' my friends missing-
But it's not only them,
Others too are ripped apart
-Teachers, children, mothers, traders
-All striving to eat
We have a government
-A silent God
And I am scared
-I just maybe next

But I don't want to be next
I don't want to die
-To be unburied,
I don't want flies in my mouth
Or maggot in my legs;
Or is that too much I ask
-too much to get
To want grow
And give my loved ones proper burial?
I don't want;
I don't want it to be your lungs
-And ribs or brain on the earth next,
Maybe you don't know-
Baga is gone and yours maybe next.

Give a chance- me and you,
A chance at survival
-But if you choose not to
And say like Baga
-It cannot reach us-
Who knows?
-Maybe it might be my ribs and your lungs
Next together

You want to help
Don't you?
Then begin with that homeless kid
-The hungry child in your street