Hired Hands Poem by Haruna Garba

You know not where you are
Peasants seem not to know
And so does every hired hand
We all live in some cast net
Net cast by these fishermen
Few men knitters of their yarn

They sat down and weaved it all
Perforated clothing to enmesh us
It is so stout never to go any soft
Handmade material for heirlooms
And when handed over finally it is
Caste breeds can't wriggle through

The coins are closed in their palms
And forever,their they shall be
To buy whatever they want to buy
The wheel is in their firm grip
And so is the oar on you the boat
Through meanders to be steered