The Residues of the Aftermath

Enslaved by the marauding forces of colonial imperialism,
we were but inconsequential gnats
groveling in the face of their superior firepower.

Freedom we sought
it was an unknown dream
soon it became our reality.
But a penkelemes we made of it
Its taste in our mouths soured
our delusions of grandeur,
by a revolution damuzad
and tottering on the verge of collapse,
was that ancient marriage of inconvenience.

At aburi they converged
Presumably, to forge an accord.
A tale of confederation they told
but twas for naught
as the emmisaries of rift
were unable to compromise;
And for their pride and ego,
Okigbo by his guns died.

Of three years of enduring pain and agony,
“No Victor No Vanquished” they declared!
Still the wounds are open
its scars fresh
but its lessons in our ignominy unlearnt.
For once again, providence has provided
A new nation the opportunity to build
Yet here we are;
The Residues of the Aftermath…
Slowly marching to our deaths.
like the trousered natives of eons past
delighting still in the novelty of explosives!


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