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A Nation, wearied, sapped traumatized. This vast exotic land, fringed by lush emerald jungles A spark rising from the west, once looked upon by all, A giant? No, faded glory. Vistas of burning star and torrential rivers Once revered, now a derelict of crumbled epitaph Africa, This burden weighs heavily on your brow, These monsters slow the speed of your growth, Stunted by greed, raped by men, is this a country? where profligate band of men overtaken by fraud and moral turpitude, Where gangsters and criminals reconvene every four years to loot. Lords over conquered Lilliputians Their mission obvious, their strategies similar, their inducement a bribe. Lewd lords, banished the reputation of the ancestors, Greedy goons imposed themselves as godfathers The urchins in Lagos to the desert of almajiris of Kano From cult cloned rivers to the borders around the Delta Felons, fit for prison makes the rules, And the people so docile watch a drama of an unending bondage No resistance? Where are their men? To stay the impending doom of the unborn innocent citizens There are no heroes yet, they never let them live, A nation, where criminals becomes governors, Bandits as senators And a never-ending interest from dullards to rule a people. And four-year’s tenure makes rascals twice richer as the masses beg for sustenance Mobilized by kingpins, barons and bandits once decorated with honor There are no heroes here, they never let them live, monsters fit for jail order this path for their greed. A people battered by long years of oppression What a nation! Countries of Africa be not like this, Mocking an incomplete incubation from colonial oppression Sending their offspring to a second beggarly bow to slavery, Oppressed by wicked mere mortals gathering dust as riches Yet in the same country Many races live there, The Proud, The fierce, The warlike And Yet unable to break free from subjugation from their new tyrants
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