Epitaph On the Plateau

Hacked down at dawn is the tree that would have blossomed Maimed is the navel that sometimes may have grown straight Burned is the candle that may have shone in a dark path Stifled is the dream that might have come true Bludgeon are youth who would have led Trampled by maggoty mauruders is the flowers that would have sprouted Gone limp is the phallus that would have yielded bountifully for posterity Lost is the country of our heroes past Bath in the fiesta of blood and death Convulse in ethnic tent and shrines Starved of humanity, pyromaniacs Blinded and poisoned by blind faith Buried in the womb of Dogo Nahawa is a testimony of man’s diabolical efficiency The sadistic infanticide… The murder of the frail, the feeble and the weak Robbing the newly born of its mother’s milk A horrific dot to sentences of life constructed midway Sanctioned by man’s sanctimoniousness So weep, weep for the children are no more Weep for dismembered families Strangled, decapitated at dawn For their bones lies buried In shilly- shally government committees and white papers. (This piece is written against the background of endless massacre in Jos Plateau –North Central Nigeria)