This poem about the unsung heroes of the creek is a Political Poem. This also can be a guide on how to write a political poem.
When you have to fight for what is your birthright, it pains to live with that reality. There is nothing much to say than to feel this sadness that is a mixture of pain in the land of plenty. Indeed, it is a sad political poem for your deep thought.
Unsung Heroes Of The Creek
They came unannounced
But with a sworn mission
Never to negotiate their rights
But to demand that which is theirs.
They called them jokers,
Labeled them bunch of criminals
Yet never were they dented
But injustice they seek to unfold.
Their strength,
The lord’s of Aso Rock underestimate
Business they thought as usual
But how wrong, just how wrong they were.
Years in the hands of scavengers,
Their land they raped with rudeness abandon
Dividing the loots among their cronies
Without any hope of covering their nakedness.
Though her land, oils the wheel that feeds our nation
Yet mass poverty ravaged her like desert encroachment
For none that came seek to reverse their suffering
But only to add more salts to their wounded injuries.
Blood of their leaders were wines to the goggle general
Even as their virgin land are meats to the multinationals
Their kinsmen are joint-collaborators in these naked bastardizations
Man’s inhuman to man; the world seems not to border.
In silent tears, their cries roam beyond the creek,
But none would hear them nor look their direction
How they had been pushed to the wall
Now a child’s play has become a nightmare to all.
A land of peace had become a land of kidnappers
A genuine course has been stolen in broad daylight
White-life in exchange for petro-naira oil loots
While innocent black-life’s are blood sprinkled in the streets.
Who will belt the cat out of the bag?
For out of the creek unsung heroes have arose
Pain-pay-cheques they sends to white expatriate
Now innocent masses are victims of their butt of authority
Fearless battlers for self-control
I share your cries; I felt your silent pains,
For no man cheated of his inheritance
Would fold his hands and see death ravaged him.
But for how long shall you unleash this new found love
Look beyond the gun and see what you have done to yourself
For in fighting a just course, your hands you have destroy your sweat
No home you will ever have, if you destroy that which is yours.
Nsikak Andrew
14th October, 2006 & 26th June, 2007
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