MusingsPoetry

From the Black Days of Oduduwa

From the black days of Oduduwa,
to the striking days of Ogun,
down to the thunderous
times of Sango,
we had a story for the gods:

Even though we couldn’t
Decipher this ifa,
We knew what was to come
And for it, we were prepared.

From the days things fell apart,
And were no longer at ease,
Our culture made us tough.
Our nation’s madness made us strong.
Nations had long fallen apart
Who had not experienced
Up to half of a yellow sun
Of the thing around our neck.

The evil that once was
Was the war which wared
The whore that had to hide
From Hur where Abraham left.

Even if Wole tells Yinka
To advice Chima and Amanda
To talk to our government,
Jobs would keep hiding in caves.
You are eager to graduate,
But when you grad, you wait.
All shall be better,
We are working as ants
As the giants we are,
But we pray to eat as elephants.

Our black pride is more decent
Than the diligence of Mandela.
We should have an age to inherit,
But here is our herit-age.
Trapped in condoms,
Whilst some waste
In abortion of our portion.

Blacks are the pride that ride
Africa. We may not have
Gotten to where we are going,
But we are the Giant of Africa
And giants don’t lose.

As wise as ants,
Giants we are.

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