Tales of minefields
From faraway lands,
Rustle in my ears.
Aftermaths of great wars,
And lesser tribal squabbles,
Baring its fang long after the dust
Has settled.
Circa: Rwanda, Angola, Liberia, Sierra Leone, Libya!
Terrorising traumatised souls
Trying to heal again;
To make sense of life anew.
It was easy to turn off the news broadcast then.

Today!
A misguided step in the streets,
A fateful assembly at motor parks, markets or commuter bus stations,
And we risk an untimely end.
Once upon a time safe havens,
Are now riddled
with land mines,
Beer parlours and recreation centres
Are abbattoirs of our people!
My neighbourhood is in the news.
I can no longer turn off the TV!

The explosion of a mine,
Splinters and shrapnels
Spew deathly froth,
Like volcanic lava,
Destroying all and every in its path.
Limbs fly, torso contorts
Body parts dismembered luridly.
We are no longer secure,
Even though ‘our oga @the top’ says “We ARE NOT AT WAR”!

Propaganda confronts political grandstanding,
While citizens are dying
Of this imported disease.
We are made to believe
The landmines from conflict zones of yesterday,
Observed from comfortable distance on our TV,
Are whirlwinds that have blown to our land.
‘Our oga’ says “May be it’s our turn. Terrorism is a global phenomenon”.

Our freedom is being imprisoned,
Our minds numb with fear;
Paranoia weakens our struggle.
Who is next?
Are you safe from this scourge?
Am I?
Does democracy breed such insecurity?
The wanton waste of citizens’ lifes, In these minefields of our land.

Thanks,

Muheez (@m_careca5)
The views expressed above are solely that of the author and not of Omojuwa.com or its associates.