A giant, she was called;
Young and full of promise,
She had a future the stars would envy.
A land filled with milk and honey,
A place full of untapped potentials and without fakes.
She was taken and made to wear masks and be a weapon of another’s fate.
She struggled, she took her place.
Once again, her future set in stone;
She came unto her own,
In blood and in tears;
She put her name on the map,
Never dried, never really tapped;
She stood still and stagnant for a long time.
Little insects, vibrant worms,
They suck, they bite, they bleed her dry;
They take the crown of the crops and left the weed for her to survive.
Her lands tapped and swindled;
Her body; raped and ridiculed;
The worms grew strong and powerful,
With silver tongue, they deceive her people;
A little today, more tomorrow,
A never ending cycle of greed.
She is a shadow of a past Glory,
A promise never fulfilled,
She’s full of dreams and unfulfilled plans,
A spark of hope comes once in a while,
Who will take the win? She or the worms?
Let fate unfold
To be born anew or to be regenerated.
She screams her name to be reminded of the power she holds.
One day, she’ll reclaim her lands,
One day, she’ll bear the name Nigeria without shame, guilt, and filth.
That day, she will glow with pride.