Misty Clouds

Written by: Divine Friday Idiong

Suddenly it looks misty
and cloudy.
A miasma of our duplicitous past
Is hanging over the Niger.
Blowing down from the polar.
It looks like rain again.
Rain again,
Whoever wants it to rain again.
 
Who is it that taught you
Such mendacity:
You were "born to rule"?
Whoever lied to you that
The more southerners you killed
Or the more churches you bombed,
The more virgins you will be
entitled to in heaven?
 
Whoever told them
We can not match their missiles or
Even quench their fires
With the waters we have in the khamsin?
 
It looks like a storm again
But we no longer use machetes.
They appear to be ready;
Chanting their war songs.
But we pray not for this impending rain of blood.