Downcast Extolled

Nwanyi'agadi, the daughter of Nwanyi'kwele, On our day of Armageddon, We will publish your name upon the office of Justice, Come, sit here and prevail. You will stand on the fulcrum, and clench the Ofor into your right fist, Become our judge, we beseech you, You whose fury burns like the wild furnace, Behold, this evil happened to our world two generations past, She is the stain on white apron which defied the hardest scrub. Cast her into the Niger, and leave her to the weight of her deeds, If she sank, bury her heart at the bosom, and let her body stray. Behold, this is the destitution which stole our communal joy, He ate up our soup pot on fire, and left us with rumbling stomachs, We have become patriots for the spices of stark supper. Cast him into the Sahara, and let his fate decide his existence, If Sahara grows grain, let him banquet, otherwise, leave him to hunger, If he falls, let the vultures feast, and let the dust defy his carcass. Behold, here comes the terror, the commander's conduit of power, Desecrater of our tranquillity, He is the leech on our nerves which sapped our marrows, And left us trembling to his whims. Lure him to the hatch of Alausa, let him proclaim himself to the estate, Look the bullets piercing into his skin, Tell not the world what your eyes has seen, lest The hangman comes for your head.