Project 9ja Mag The Revolution. 1st Edition | Page 29

the revolution Rëçëdïñg Rïvër Hey minstrel, tell me about a country A country with a slaughter house but cracks bone like the backyard dog A country like a tree at the river side with withered stems, dislodged roots A country like an Eagle living like a farmyard chicken A country like a lion feeding on cuds A country with stolen identity. I know of a country in the West That part where the shiny sun sets That part where her prosperity set in wastefulness The descendants of the great Niger Who wade with repute through Nile to Zambezi Her resources flowing like the limpid water of Limpopo This fifty- eight – year old River Living like a pond ; nay a puddle Blessed by providence with black gold Like her fellow brother in the Congo Her blessing is her curse Her gold turned black-red Like the prodigal son, wasteful! This river refuses to water the abutting tree The face of the river turns florid The left hand marries the right hand It begets clean hands page 29 It gets a divorce It beget a soiled garment Providence planted diverse hands and diverse tongues in this country They turned the tongues into sabre of destruction The turbulence of the river is caused by the strife and discord among these people Their tongues brought a storm on their fellow brothers By their hands, they pulled out the hearts of their brothers The river is splattered with familiar blood It got stuck by its tide of strife It is receding This country configured for greatness Has its seeds of greatness planted in the river of cooperation The Nile is no shorter than the Amazon She only needs to stretch forth her hands and earn her place She must kill the thirst in the world The fishermen must go home with a heavy net The miners must leave with smile This river must water the tree Like the ambience of Ibadan forest, her world must be green. YUSUF OLUWAFEMI SALAKO University of Lagos Email: [email protected]