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Mama Nigeria I was born not with a silver spoon, but gold and diamonds I live in the midst of plenty and abundance- Splashing about in a free flow of milk and honey; I glory in an amazing empire of oil, ore, hardcore and intrigues. My mother is an acclaimed giant from the region of the monkeys Where buildings grow slowly and tomorrow's leaders die quickly The woman of many parts and hundreds of children, my mother - Fit to shoot the skies but weak to raise the bow, Whose spears and arrows are sharpened and seldom used. My mother whose children grab at the jugular Fleecing all but her very life, the integral part of the oneness existence Bleeding and crying, she continues to plead - "remain so is all I ask For the sake of the fathers that founded you, Who a hundred years ago, consorted for a single mother". Yet they never stop to bleed her, milking her like there's no tomorrow. Accepting as the norm and stealing her jewels to be fine. Yes! The same children she keeps as one, keep squeezing with pillage; Hating and fighting they dart at each other, the battle for superiority And difference in tongue and prayer. Some even ask "where is the common destiny?" Oh Mama Nigeria, tell them the destiny is in the oneness you preach Tell them the ship long set sail and that uhuru is yet to be the song Tell them to behave in their quest for your breast milk. Remind us all that you have borne us for a hundred years Tell them that me your child will live, fight and die for you Tell them that i am proud to have a mother big and beautiful like you Tell them that your many strengths and weaknesses is the who you are And that it will take more than a hundred blurbing children To suck you dry or to change your name, or reduce the size of you. Oh Mama Nigeria! Wake up now. Come forth mama, Tell them to behave! Or it is time to use your cane. @chumammeka (a.k.a. Tchar) February 7, 2014
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