A Winter Of Withering Warriors
Where is your sword and shield?
Warrior and knight of the people
The tales of your blood-drawing dagger
In the fight against looting and cruelty
Is yet to be read in our waiting ears
Where are those fiery darts?
Your tongue aimed at thieves and spivs
Who fed from our sweats and burden and
Wiped their anus with our heads
Where’s your pecking voice oh renegade?
My hands are well washed and
With elders I am given a seat
Sit and hear oh warrior of yesteryears
The history you forgot in our room
When you pitched your tenth in Aso-tent
Esau Jacob’s ‘foodgasm’ could not resist
Like sodium metal in aqueous solution
Whose strength is consumed to nothingness
His hungry soul displaced his senses
The price was paid and it was his birthright.
My seat is still with the elders
My history lessons are of the ancients
Well taught wisdom you left abandoned
When you nod your head at every hypocrisy
And flash your teeth at the deception of Aso-Rock
The drooping breast and hanging nipples
Did not dissuade the lustful Reuben
When he pitched and thrusts his third leg
To uncover the thighs of Jacob’s wife
His birthright and voice was the price
I still have my seat with the elders
Yea! My hands are thoroughly washed
The greedy, stubborn and headstrong flea
Will be buried with the dead the elders say
This is wisdom, buy it and let it not
The palace and scepter of ruler-ship
The victuals, revelry and comfort of Aso-rock
Holding your tongue and sight captive
Like a vapor is but for a short while
This is wisdom, nothing lasts forever.
(For Reuben Abati and all those who close their eyes and have sold their conscience to the rituals of their present state of grandiose that Aso-rock offers amidst the sufferings of the poor majority).
– Elisha Otome Okoromoba
Follow on twitter: @ElishaOtome