degrees are reduced to mere papers
and its holders become artisans,
confined
to man
some wheels
of some conglomerate’s heavy truck!
I’ve seen some faces swallowed up
by austerity, buried beneath the facade
of their smiles, as graduates sweeps the streets
Looking for where to assist masons
mix cements,
water
and sand
While their thieving leaders rejoice over their plight!
I know of a clime where the blueprint
for governance is factored on erecting committees
that will look into works of previous committees
then reduce the said reports to relics confined
to the dustbins of dubious politicking!
I know well, when we’ll wake up tomorrow
we’ll find out that this is our place,
a docile ambience,
inhabited
by docile followership!
meet the poet: Jon Manuels Enekele
