By Fenny West
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The City of More it is called
A sprawling, overflowing megapolis
Racing, yet crawling at snail’s speed
Contorted, infested with corruption,
Conmen who corner you for ”pure water”
Submit or face verbal spanking or brutal lute.
The Big Boys know how to meander
Duck under, wade through the sewer
They hide in their fortified bunkers
While Okada-death trap- parades the streets
With his frequent machine gun horn-bursts
Who needs a seat belt? ‘Foolish’ Oyibo invention.
In a nation full of crude oil
Yet obtaining petrol a great toil
Electricity is plenty with scarcity
Replaced by the humdrum of generators
A drum beat with a cacophony that never stops.
‘Eh, but there is no fuul, today’ they say.
A mantra that is now the music of each day.
When will Africa’s sleeping giant arise?
When will this stinking sewer be over?
When will the light dawn to drive away the night?
When will this prisoner of self deliver herself?
The Gospel light shines bright
But she has allowed a strange fire in her midst.
Sin is entertained, dressed, festooned, pacified
And she separates, shackles, imprisons, blinds and binds.
Mob justice has replaced the rule of law
As thieves are greeted with burning-tyre ‘necklaces’
Bizarre! Anarchy on the loose, get the noose!
Thank God for the GSM revolution
A bright spot in the mobile revolution
Punctuated by occasional mayhem
Of abduction for ransom
Government in disarray, cannot find a way.
Thugs, thieves, arrive, rise, connive and thrive.
Yet I see the day is coming for a glorious dawn
When light shall rise in the midst of darkness
When Satan shall bow at the feet of the Son
When the Holy wind will herald a wind of change
Yes, there is hope amidst the sea of hopelessness
This sleeping giant must rise from slumber
Discarding her garment of shame and blindness
As the Church marches on her knees, relentless;
Letting her light so shine, that His glory is seen.
When Zion travails she will birth a child of promise.
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