Strange Bed Fellows Poem by Uche Nwanze

Under one roof, confined together like inmates each scrambling for the crumbs of their taskmasters. A comedy of error, they have plunged us into this timeless abyss. Beguiled by the Union Jack, they crossed the Atlantis. With a mission to plunder like rapacious mosquitoes. Masquerades dancing naked in the market square.

They woo us with Greek gifts of civilization, with their left hand steal our wealth and defile my people. With his Bible they swayed our gullible hearts. My forbears coaxed under the barrel of his gun.
She arranged a marriage of convenience among strange bed fellows. Long live the Queen our voices have gone hoarse. Thee North and South led to the altar, their marriage a stillbirth. An alliance made to feather the nest of Her Royal Majesty's service.

In discordant tunes they sing, in cacophony of voices they chant.
Unity, a luxury they no longer desire, trust a recipe extinct from our soup pots. Oats of enmity she sowed, the handwriting of distrust inscribed on the wall, an omen we turned a blind eye to

By the walls of Berlin, they scramble for all our black gold. My dark skin they spit on. Like scum we were treated and dangled bananas at us like monkeys.

To the heavens we cried songs of freedom, blood and sweat we fought to get out of our dungeon. In haste they depart, our home lies in ruins.
The taste of freedom far from our lips. Like sojourners we dwell in our fatherland.

Strange bed fellows, the vows at the altar we long to break.
Freedom we still yearn for, if only this conjugal were but a dream.