Shocks of ecstasy arouses
My demurring face as a camel
Walking into the storm of desert

The undulating paths swing in agony
As we embraced the brim of Niger sea
The journey to the point of no return

Gnarled us and crooked us in a shackles
Of chained poverty and shared corruption
Locked in a **** of one man's handbags

We still imbue courage as we walk
On the greenish infertile land
Control by family, friends and concubines

Woe to our stool of mystery
As we hope the secret of better life
relies on a selected messiah

It is I, it is we and it is you
That must prevail to slaughter
What imprison us

With a cast of casking ***
The long queues of twenty nineteen
Where our drunken journey ends

Written by
Martin Ijir