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STOLEN ILLUMINATION OF THE STAR This journey has not been a fanciful adventure, we're all settlers in these dynasty of neo-colonialism united only by what divides us. Victims, yes victims of civilized inducement, terms of reference only apply to the proletarians. Am not merely being irrational behind the scene we have double standard, huge volumes of finger print even the blind can see. Not far too fast we live together but now, now they looked down on US cause, unlike US this folks acquired a taste for a different melody, raining impunity in the guise of immunity such; overt display of power used to be associated with slavery but now, now the trade mark of the BIG BROTHERS. Frail men with no emotional intelligence who built fences taller than mount Everest. The night is unusually long and my integrity will not allow me to be perceive at this crooked system that has continue to hurt our conscience, I think the beginning of the conflict was capitalism, though we lived in communities without common goal wasting in estates, oh honourables without honours preaching the ten commandment of development yet dragging us into recession; gang raping our economy. My peoples hope are kept half alive by the state charity called the budget which merely introduces a touch of faint breeze accompanied by mixed messages, while we suffer collective amnesia; every year is another sand castle, the legislatures flip through it pages in an expression of esprit de corps with the executive bathes in their own propaganda perhaps a tight-lipped concentric circle of conspiracy. We ran to this floating fortress caused all we ever wanted is change, yes change now my comrades walking with their head dangling over shrinking shadows colonized by hunger and poverty, weary of being without in the midst of plenty while our reps engage in sophistry hoping to get a simple majority, these crake in their armour became the gaping hole in this fortress wall that was once home to us, well maybe am looking at the concept of orthodoxy differently perhaps I over exaggerated. Our land held bound by this creatures of whim who seem to walk in the delirium induced by common greed, tearing down our walls as the walls of Jericho with policies summersault, soaking us into ideologist that were never part of our core values. This harmattan wild-fire burns in every facade like a stray girl but the mirror keeps in focus with associative evidence, aided by dark hidden hands acted by these black stars. The judiciary have made abortive attempts in her journey to freedom, while the last diagnosis proved miscarriage of justice others result in still-birth. These kleptocrats tend to mystify development and still claim the government is for the people when everything is behind close door, attended only by members of the internal fracas, yet I was told am the leader of tomorrow and now I wander if am anywhere close, perhaps is part of the poli-tricks to define hypocrisy for democracy. Even our activist are carrier freedom fighters whose effort made a sabotage of our own mission, alas this is no short than a well rehearsed choreography of colours in deception. Over the years the chief priest who held in trust, feast on the nations fortune and still have the nerves to preach contentment, in every constituency there is no consistency. Our abattoirs are filled with native and foreign vultures, while the butchers knife slash without mercy the national cake. The psychological basis for this social contract was fair but I really wander if the rules still applies. Surely a case of an oppressed majority, all my homie got was the minimum wage which can't satisfied a noble appetite, I think no more explanation for the rage. Amazingly this folks in their desperate political jig to remain in power recycled themselves every four years, while we listened in stunned silence as they engage in oral acrobatic promising to change our notion into a nation; mere rhetoric which excites our imaginations, seduces us to believe in miracles, we ran with deadly haste to the polls as this prospect casted a dark shade over us and now we're casualties of our own mischief laugh to scone by the sun and the august rain.
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