Two Twenty-Sevens Poem by Tony Cemaluk

In 1960, At Twenty-Seven, He Wore A Suit At Lafia,
Built A House At Lafia, Built A House At Ojoto.
A Full Man, Complete,
In The Year Nigeria Stood Tall.

In 1995, At Twenty-Seven, Where Was I?
What Did I Achieve?
Just Certificates. Nothing Again.
Paper In Hand, No Land At My Feet.

I Was Not Born But Graduated Into SAP,
Into Strikes, Into A Naija That Changed Its Promise.
One Salary No Longer Built A House,
One Degree No Longer Opened A Door.

1960 Gave Him Land For Pennies,
1995 Gave Me Grammar For Survival.
Same Age, Different Country,
Same Blood, Different Struggle.

But Let Truth Speak Now:

He Built With Blocks To Shelter A Family,
I Build With Words To Shelter His Name.
His Houses May Crumble With Harmattan,
My Poems, As Words In Marble, Will Keep His Mustache Alive.

He Became A Full Man At Twenty-Seven,
I Become An Immortal Advocate Son At Fifty-Eight.
He Traded Truth From Lafia To Ojoto,
I Upload Truth From Ojoto To The World.

Naija Was Unfair, Yes.
But Blood Was Fair.
The Good Heart Remained.

Two Twenty-Sevens,
One Legacy.