You raised me from my birth,
Even from when I was a toddler
You promised "by you till death"
Before I even know you're a mother.

My teen years are all before you,
You nurtured me well to be strong
To stand for the right cause, any who
Needs your courage and fight along.

But, the story has changed so great,
You stabbed and pulled triggers on me
So also as the love I have turned to hate,
I deserve better O mother, even me.

Heroes of yesterday are on your street
Clothed with the blood of your brutality
You deserve better and not this hit,
When will you wake to this reality?

My country my home
We celebrate but suffering
At 60 we ain’t proud of home
Yet still we live and enjoy the suffering

What more can we do
When the Government turn us down
Where else can we go
Even when you’re up they’ll pull you down

We see the wrongs
Yet swim along

We hear blunders
Yet not bothered

We feel the harm
Yet no alarm

We see scapegoats
Yet sell the votes

See what folded arms has done
Are we not undone?

Shall her heroes labour go in vain?

There she lies again,growing older. Her mates are growing with bounty development but vast hope still lies in the thought of her children.

She is green and white; what a beauty! She has oil to her disposal, agricultural products within her reach or should we talk about coal and  steel or the erstwhile minerals in her disposition. What a wealth!

She once rose in 70s, her currency going in a duel with dollar; a naira for a dollar. What a currency!

She rode all through that era among her Negroid family, her Congoid peers were admiring her stardom, the western was dismayed by her rise.

And she had heroes; her brave children. These children had fought her freedom from the westerners and started a revolution but there it was;  she had bad kids; one who haunted her despite being their mother.

Her bad kids defied others of power, stole our mother's wealth and still oppressed their brothers and sisters with their stolen. Even went further in manipulating their siblings brains with cooked lies so as to get power and steal their mother's wealth and still opress their siblings.

Also, she had crazy kids; they believed in her downfall so they attacked her children (their siblings) for their selfish and unbelievable wants.

Mother Nigeria is getting weak day by day, some children wants to help but the brainwashed and bad siblings won't allow. Some children are joining the "train of destruction" of their mother because they don't to be on a losing side and feels it's a normal act.

Her heroes (children who fought for her) are going in vain, day by day, she is dying slowly by the activities of her children. No one wants to start a revolution because of those in poor.

The giant of Africa is gradually becoming timid and her tag being questioned.  

And there her children has feud over their races and religion and bitterness grown over them.

What would happen to mother Nigeria while some of her children only have hope filled in her while others have ran away for shelter from other mothers.

Shall the giant of Africa rise again, shall her heroes labour go in vain, would her children unite in peace and make her great?

Only time and God can tell.