Death wore some
Starch crispy attire
Bespectacled, came from
The sahel gropping in the swamps
Looking for them
Yes, Wiwa and the Ogoni eight
The soldiers of Niger delta
Against the noxious ordure
Of the humming rigs.
They saw death
In the afternoon through
The hand of a man their oil
Helped to groom a general
They met death with a decree
They met death with guns
Their oil had bought
They met death fiercely
Looking for their blood
And it was spilled
When darkness descended that afternoon.
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