Free Country Poem by Olumide Omoyele

What to do with this labyrinth
Of countless tongues? Children of
His Holiness, Chief Lord Lugard
Adherents of absent Gods
They test our collective sanity
Little by little they steal our souls
These kidnappers of our

Nationhood squander the future
Of many an unborn generation
This geographical expression
Federal Republic of Nonsense
Wrapped in warped incentives,
And religious manipulations and
An acute absence of purpose

Is it any wonder that the people
Have grown so apathetic to
How they are governed?
Well, that's just it, they're
Not governed, each man
Running his own little city,
Creator of his own utilities

Ah! That's what they meant
By Republic; silly, stupid us!
Alas, the spirit of the people
Refuse to die, for what reason
I cannot fathom they continue
To pray and wish and hope.
The masses, relegated to the

Sidelines, spectators to a
Stolen destiny; called upon
Only when political gods need blood
To pacify restless ancestors
Yet, the masses continue
To dream still of a kinder
Breed of emancipation.