A reign of impunity by Northern-led Federation
coupled with the anarchy of 'wild, wild west'
of mid 1960s-unrests, had ushered in the military
in a putsch that highlighted ethnic borders in blood.
Deadly reprisal that was the countercoup
triggered a wave of pogrom: a doomsday chaos
that littered the entire 'North' with human debris.
Survivors flee to 'East' with death on their heels.
Stuck in the vast abyss of vendetta, a negotiated
truce gave way to hegemonic quest.
Survival pitted against diminished prospects,
The Republic Of Biafra was declared.
Utterly isolated in its secession pursuit,
menaced by famine in severe refugee crisis,
a carnival of carnage set the sun
in Biafra, 'Land Of Rising Sun.'
'No Victor No Vanquished' sealed their accord,
but the rules of engagement is redrafted
in shed torrents of blood.
Nigeria, the uneasy amalgam through coercion holds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem