Old-New Poem: Little Boy’s Vision of Nigeria


This poem is very personal to me. It is what I experienced when I went to this country. The first part of the poem shows first 9 years of life. The latter part of the poem shows when I went back to Nigeria last summer. I hope for a better future for this country because there are corruption from the head. I wish that God touches the hearts of the corrupted.

Visions of a place once lived,
Dreams of a home long perceived,
Passions of a house which received,
Love from one so little who truly believed.
A vision of a house so large,
Big Garage, Big Bedrooms,
Big Kitchen, Big Guestrooms.
A place of peace and joy
With friends next door to enjoy.
The balcony where the sports were played,
Football, cricket, sports alike were made.
Good memories!
Even walking half a mile to grind beans was exciting.
Walking to a friend’s house,
Walking to shops,
Walking to stops,
Walking, walking, walking……….Walking……….
Easy!

Good! He thought to himself,
Simple, Basic and able to be oneself.
Enjoying every moment of the day.
Going through life with the thought of a good day.
The light would go off,
The TV would go off,
They would shout ‘NEPA te geb eni lo’,
Then it becomes a game.
Who will find the candles first?
Candles alight. Monopoly comes out and it’s all good.
Light comes back on,
Celebrate good times come on.
Life is all good! Just until that phrase becomes,
‘Goodbye home’

Eleven years has passed, finally the boy plans to go home.
Buys his ticket with his family,
Gets the train rather calmly,
Goes to the terminal rather firmly,
Waiting to board badly.
Then it hits him, I’m going home….
Over flowing with emotions,
Sitting with one notion,
If it was a cup you need a truck,
Just as a lightning struck.
Impatiently waiting in the queue,
Suffering in silence as if it was due.

Plane landed
Everyone disbanded.
Thoughts of home run through his head,
Excitement runs down his spine,
So much he felt it was time.
‘WE ARE BACK’
Grabbing his backpack, he smiles to his parents.
Looking at each other they laugh.
Every step is taken with purpose leading the pack .

Silence strikes,
‘What’s wrong son?’
Doors open,
‘Welcome to the country of your birth’
Doors open.
Enters the car.
Silence
Taking in every sight he sees,
Taking in every sounds and beads.
His mind spinning,
The clock ticking,
The world flowing unexpected of his presence,
His Parents expecting this sentence;
‘What happened?’
Silence falls.

End of the day he sits and writes:
Emotions running high,
In my country with a sigh,
Rappers say they go hard, hustle all day,
With their papers,
Without hardly working for their gain,
Whilst others struggle for their grains.
Being pushed to the edge,
Voicing out looking for a stage,
Stringing emotionally out of control,
Anger, Misery with the constant thought of betrayal.
Going through life smiling, denial.
Returning to my country kills me.
What happened to my beautiful country?
The country i grew up in.
My childhood dreams,
My childhood wishes,
My childhood kisses.
I write this and I pray, touch the hearts of your people,
Open the eyes of those who can cause a change,
A change for the better,
A change for better roads,
A change for better housing,
A change for a better standard of living.
That’s all I ask for, I call to you Lord, answer my prayer, Amen.

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