Posted by mmandu okoli on
The Niger flowed home in Bloods
from a source over the Northern Hills.
The machete that had cut the N’Dama
has spilled barrels of Bloods.
The arid field over the Northern Hills,
irrigated with innocent Bloods;
so appeased was the ‘Martyred’ Sarduana.
Exhausted with the purging feasts and drama,
coaches upon coaches arrived the Coalyard
with dismembered Bones and ruffled Bloods.
Sounds of combat parading,
vibrated like earth tremours.
The craving armoury in Kaduna
consecrated her new Napalm and Armours,
b’cos war drums beat, evenly beating,
amidst the pretentious UNITY sermonized over the Shipyard.
Declarations; counter declarations,
roamed the radio waves.
Conferences; more conferences,
convened rapidly.
Tensions; hyper tensions,
electrified the feeble nerves.
Mouths wagged in differences.
Eyes flickered anxiously.
Somewhere over the hilly Coalyard,
Stood the mediating Warrior
-With Oxford-impacted charisma-
-With Zungeru-born courage-
-With Nnewi-blooded enigma-
So assertive, unwavering dogged,
translating eloquence blended with candour.
Eyes unflickered, blackish beard protruded
under the youthful face of a bald figure;
insulating the diplo-injustices berthing the Shipyard.
Bereaved Eyes, anxious Ears;
including zillions of visible Spirits,
including butchered foeta of Spirits,
spirits courted over the Northern Hills,
all circumvented the mediating Warrior-
charting a course for territorial integrity
for the remnants of Bloods spilled over a gnarled UNITY.
So justified the declaration but not for the political Heirs.
Not for the righteous pogromists- the crude Oppressors-
nor the courteous Oppressors
teleguiding from The Thames.
In memory of DIM CHUKWUEMEKA ODUMEGWU OJUKWU (1933-2011).
The evergreen Warrior of Igbo Survival