Epitaph On the Plateau
Hacked down at dawn is the tree that would have blossomed
Maimed is the navel that sometimes may have grown straight
Burned is the candle that may have shone in a dark path
Stifled is the dream that might have come true
Bludgeon are youth who would have led
Trampled by maggoty mauruders is the flowers that would have sprouted
Gone limp is the phallus that would have yielded bountifully for posterity
Lost is the country of our heroes past
Bath in the fiesta of blood and death
Convulse in ethnic tent and shrines
Starved of humanity, pyromaniacs
Blinded and poisoned by blind faith
Buried in the womb of Dogo Nahawa is a testimony of man’s diabolical efficiency
The sadistic infanticide…
The murder of the frail, the feeble and the weak
Robbing the newly born of its mother’s milk
A horrific dot to sentences of life constructed midway
Sanctioned by man’s sanctimoniousness
So weep, weep for the children are no more
Weep for dismembered families
Strangled, decapitated at dawn
For their bones lies buried
In shilly- shally government committees and white papers.
(This piece is written against the background of endless massacre in Jos Plateau –North Central Nigeria)
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