And when I lay my head to rest, worry grasps me,
Subsequent rushes of devastation, am I ruined?
Ugwu said the world was silent when we died,
53 years later, the world spoke, we still died,
Cowed by fear for many years, we accepted our country as it was,
Now we struggle to mould the nation as it ought to be,
And all we get in return is bloodshed and violence,
Is it fate or is it just too late,
It's not quite a task to sit at home,
There's every reason to lay the placard down,
Except the fact that we might be next,
A 100 casualties yesterday, 25 injured today,
The reality of the comfort of your home being turned to you being tortured in a cell- unlawfully,
Even a fool will take heed,
Nobody will listen but he will speak,
Your opinions may not be accommodated now,
However our voices must be heard,
Speeches of who should be the shepherd,
Consistently drain me of the little morale left,
The same fuel that fires up the need to take an action is the same fuel that fires up apathy,
What if I die? Would I be some sort of Luther or Gandhi?
Or would I be part of the dead bodies who the government pay to hide?
Men and women of so called timbre and calibre, have failed to channel their influence to the right fill,
But the press wants my nobody of a mother to roll in mud with a depressed expression,
With tears dried and plastered like pap,
To come out and admit that I was killed in the shootout,
Then they would help extinguish her silently like the nobody that she is,
We were chanting peacefully,
My cousin who was detained 2 years ago without proper investigation,
Emmanuella whose twin was shot for no reason,
Mrs Adeyemi, an 80 year old woman, suffering from stroke whose only surviving grandchild was hit by a stray bullet,
Nnenna, who sustained severe torture from the psychopaths of SARS,
And a whole lot of others whose dented hearts kept them relentless,
We were protesting strongly,
When the street lights were turned off,
We were still moving though confused,
When gunshots succeeded by screams were heard,
I ran but the tears on my cheeks ran even faster,
The same hands that pay the broadcasters to preach one Nigeria,
Are the same hands that pay the police to hide dead bodies,
Near to the grave aged men soiling their garments,
5 years of graduation, no jobs,
Default suspects because we wear ear pods,
When they wrote the constitution, no right was left out,
But at this point of, no right is left non violated.