Season of Mourning
In the heat of a damp evening
Sweating to the beat of generators,
My lungs in furious duel with fumes,
My heart drenched
In the grief of Potiskum parents.
It is daybreak and the pains are unabated,
The sun shines but my vision is blurred,
Blurred by the gory mutilation
Of saplings yearning for knowledge,
I have heard the poisonous perfidy
Of looters consolidating powers,
I have watched the obscene dance
On the graves of our children.
Yet tears fail me
As my mourning is stifled,
They wash their hands like Pilate
And I drown in blood and vinegar!
(C) Kabura Zakama