- Usurped from birth,
Disenfranchised in youth,
Censored creativity,Calibrated impoverishment,
Primed to self-destruct.
I am the Nigerian youth.
Dare I ask what my country can do for me?
When she bleeds from incessant rape?
Motherland wallows in throes of teething afflictions;
She is five decades and three!
Excellence grovels at the feet of mediocrity within the body-politic,
Leadership breath stinks to high heaven.
Housing for all were millennium yearnings,
Still *Banana Islands are beyond our earnings.
The plight of millions in their prime,
Yet the land is a charlatan’s feasting clime.
Grunting and belaboured,
She licks her wounds,
The eyesores of her children’s profligacies.
Claiming to heal my motherland,
Draft policies and donate ‘aids’;
Digging her grave even deeper,
With lethal cocktails of financial prescriptions.
*Banana Island- a swanky, very upscale residential estate in the commercial capital of the country