Immune to the immunization of my Africaness
In the face of globalization wind
I stand unbroken like the Iroko tree
I am the radical
Bled of religious bigotry of fanatics
Whose pews are clean
As the soles of my wayfaring feet
I have stayed the black ants
Of the ethnic capitalist
From eating the gathered grains
For the rainy season
I am the mad man
Who refuses to be whipped into the line
Of haggling voices from crowd mentality
Rotting away in a rat race
The vortex of my inclinations
Is my personal hell
Sucking the depths of my soul
From mass media’s book of life
I am uncivilized
A crucifix of a brute mind
Because I learnt not the ways of the queen
But find succor in the folktales of Ogidi
I am the gentile
That refuses to be saved
Into the redeeming whiteness
Let me hold the filth of my blackness
I am the beggar
That refuses the crumbs
From politicians and sons of Thor
Let me rot in squalor
I am the warrior
Let me die with eyes open
Than live with my eyes closed
To the desecration of Omenala
Written by: Nwakanma Chika
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
