Greenhouse Africa Poem by Haruna Garba

I come upon dead depressions
And really there're lots of them
Corpses of ancient rivers they are
Helpless ancient eyes saw them die

I walk easily across shaven fields
And really they were forests alright
Leathertanned from earth's furs
Itching farmers hands scrapped them

I see getlings beating death to it
And really they are sworn enemies
Multiplex shall go the growth
It is the legacy Africa opetates

Is't greenhouse being talked about?
Here is a place for lizards to go fast
With denizens unsatiated themselves
Who would care for a damn reptile?