They blared noisily, the siren of the security patrols,
But they had soon vanished leaving no prints again.
It seem to be a Public Awareness System, the rickety of a van.
At the district’s office, each were tripped of their badges.
A group of known masked man had thrown a city into chaos.
In a flash of warm seasonal air,
They deploy armour clothes,
Stripping naked our roads
Between the time of a fowl swallowing water.
Faces vague, squarely alien.
Even stones beg for mercy from their hardest harm.
There were learned men in my countries,
With designated fine coats for untasteful professions.
Their syringe find home in butts of unregistered patients;
They said they had gloves for operations
But the air needs not PINs to be freed.
Holy Saints sojourned your mather’s land
But the hearth of my living.
Men and women, walk naked into our silos,
Under the watch of big mirrors,
Posed and watched 24/7 by armed men.
Then with glued nudities,
Even the wisdom of our grains sublime.
Yet these town helpers
Flap flip our constitution
With sitting glasses on their noses.
Where is Anas Arimeyaw Anas?
The Ariel spirit who slips among humans without flesh!
Nights enveloped into ignorant open days,
And the full moon hid under the intimidating monsoons of Dr Oyenusi.
Alas! His tsunami hit the land
And we couldn’t tell between a mouse and a cop.
If the executive is the law enforcer, then Anini was a fiery ferocious law breaker…
But the lengthy 360 days cycles up only but one night.
Telling their tales biles my heart,
For the venom gasping gaps
They dugout on our hearts.
The poor lads have stony seats,
Their parents are roadside seekers,
Yet the gentlemen of the streets
With political godfathers
Still walk shoulder high.
With our prisons full of innocent heads.
While the cowries head still exist,
Drowning might from the gods of Sabali,
Shall be our stroking strike,
For our white laws are white elephants;
Decorating sheets and calling us a demo-crack-is countries.
The story of highway robbers robs me off my faculty-
Suspending my cerebrum functionality & accelerating my emotions,
What hurts more?
The gory sight of wasted blossoms
Or the the bagged away vault of lifetime sweat?
But nemesis is not a bastard,
The unavoidable principle of retributive justice.
At the shore of the beach, before the sight of the old and young,
The blood of the ferocious robber restored peace into our land.
The Ariel spirit had deserted the being for the beams of our cheers-full grins.
When God passes His judgement,
We shall be filtered into classes
Where evil shall meet evil
And peace becomes painted on the bodies of the righteous.
©Fuseini Dipantiche Mohammed Naporoo Kamaldeen Shitobu (Creative thinker)