Christmas Rebels (2).

But night’s bell came with tears and without love, As our bamboo door talked, “KNOCK! KNOCK!!” Before my voice could speak, Legs ruined down my door, Then eyes in different heights In the starry night like Torch lights… attacked Me with their voices. They came in mass, Some brandishing cutlass, Some matchets, guns and arrows. Gang upon gangs, Displaying their flags, Blood stained, tattered, hair, shaggy. They held human heads for their Oracles of war. They were muttering songs as if Forced to sing, They had leaves and grasses in the Middle of their mouths, they were mostly teens, They were the Hausa rebels… “Wait! Wait!! Wait!!! Where are the bells? Is this day not Christmas?” I was asking myself, A short tick man came out of the mass, Not looking like human, He looked backed at the rest, Feeling like the best. He weakened my hear drums By the manner of his question, “Hausa or Birom?”. To send my religion to the bottom? Whom for this day, is Christmas? And sweet Messiah’s Calvary at Golgotha? I wasn’t prepared for that, So the truth came out like a blast “Birom!!”. “Yee! Yee!! Yee!!! Enemy tribes” they shouted Like savage talking drums. (To be continued in the next, same Poem).