All will be over, and we will go out to play like we used to do in the town square, under the big baobab tree where the nocturnal birds sing that melodious song.
We shall count the fireflies as they fly over our heads to escape  the hungry lizards..
I will tell you stories about my childhood, how it all started with a boy barefooted in the sands of Abuta. That boy with a torn shorts and empty stomach in the class.
I will tell you stories about how we used to roast corn and keep it in our school bag waiting for the bell to be rang for break.
How we used to go for hunting with our caltapults in the thicket to hunt for birds and mice. How we aimed at ripped mangoes at Ashaakooko. How we run away from the owners and sometimes how we got beaten by some Busanga guys.
I will tell you stories, stories that my father told me about my father's father.
But now, outside is not safe, so lets stay home and safe. Together, we shall win this war.
StoptheSpread

I want to inscribe this piece with a red ink like the blood
For I want people to know that I scribbled it from the depths of my heart
Perhaps, they must discern the sacrifices that I make to mix these words into a cup like tea

Or, let me write this piece with a black ink like the crab’s blood
For they must know that this came from the beliefs of a black man with history, values and culture to protect. Alas, someone must be willing to tell our story the way it was, is and will be
For western civilisations have wiped away the classics of our time embossed and engraved on our hearts across the sea

Or let me write these few words with the blue ink like we used to,
For people reading this must know, like blue is to the sky,
My writings cover the entirety of the human race.
Wait, let me brew fine words from the lexicons of the old, for within their thoughts lies philosophies and secret elixir of life, immortality of the tongue.

Wait, let me write this piece with the utmost level of sagacity, prudence and wisdom, for my children must grow to appreciate my intellect.
I wish this piece  brings  some plagues to my desk, and a travelling ticket to roam the world
So where and how should I start?

Wait, I must make sure these arguments do not offend the big men and the highest
For they clench the keys to my door of no return
Wait, let me write about the contemporary issues in town, the trending news that all are discussing, for that will sell fast and put some few bugs in my pocket
Wait, let me read wide and re-examine my dictions, for issues of copyright and plagiarism can cost me my lifetime savings.

Wait, I must examine when and how I place my metaphors, ironies and oxymorons to fit in this piece, for literature students must study my works too.
Wait, when the power comes back, prompt me, for I did not save the last paragraph I just typed.

From the chest of a writer, comes the greatest dilemma of life, like Nelly or Kelly.
Words that are sharp and powerful to divide the flesh from the bones. Within the chest are graving issues of national consent, issues that matters the most.
From the chest of a writer lingers the verdicts of our time. Words that can make or unmake a nation.
Arguments that have the potency to divide and unite the entire universe.  Peace and War.