Solace On Nigerian soil
How gay they, free from care
Of engine and chaos of station;
Satisfied strolling their plain farm
At their own pace.
They, whose flock with meat.
Whose palms with wine.
Whose farm provide them with food and finance.
Whose trees with fuel and shade.
Contented unconcerned finds
Solace in their children’s uneducated
Laughter. Rejoice they, who find sleep at night,
Oils away from civilization’s infrastructures.
Rejoice they, who enjoy the sweetness
Of recreation in the night’s innocence
Entangled with ease, unworried, for tomorrow
Is old enough to fend for itself.
Saddened I, who is educated yet un-liberated,
Fighting at every jam-packed gate for my engine,
Robbed of my supposed privilege entitled.
To live with my mind finding peace and happiness.
Shall I die with no stone to my name?
Shall I recreate aware my seeds may suffer?
Or shall I fight? For my mind is knowledgeable?
Civilized, ruled by they with tree as fuel;
Unlamented they may die,
The chaos unheard at the rock center,
Dinning on stolen privilege. On our heads
They lie and finding sleep and peace of mind.