Old Olowuasa Poem by ole kuyioni josphat

You selfishly tookthe widow’sland.
No one bothered to raise their voice nor protested,
thata honest Man’s widow was being treated so dirty
The locals did not bother to support her though she resisted.

You took over her pastures
You sold off her herd to educate your children
You slaughtered her rams to your pregnant wife
You ear-notched her ewes for your new-born child
You’ve forsaken her present and painted her future bleak.

You zipped up the laughter of her children
You consumed their spirits and made them unclean.
You snatched their being away
You cloaked many identities on them.
But old man, they will resist being your image
and carvetheir own Identity.

Old man,
How many times can a man turn his head
And pretend that he just doesn't see?
How many ears must a man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Reflect on those facts old man.

But one day old man, one day, ,
Your tools of oppression will clatter like bones in winter.
The debris of the widow’s existence will rise to its older form.
Before it was deformed by the shackles of your presence.
Rains of the widow’s struggle will wash you away.
Retentions of your rule will fade into oblivion…

When you time is up in this world, ,
We will not stand at you grave to cry
We will not compose funeral songs for you
The world won’t note your passing
For that is what you deserve.

On your tombstone we shall write
A tyrant oppressor,
The reluctant adviser,
Resting on his rightful place.