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In the dark of the Sun
Laid a simple complex period
As if from the black mound
Of a kind of an Ant, we come from
No pay for our pains
As no song in sunny sun
But no pain for their pay
As if from white rocky snow
Of a kind of a Beast, they come from
Mother laments for years
Though the weeks weaken our bones
But ‘pagidari’, they said
‘O! Igi tida’
And when Trees fall, Birds fly off
Like storm to dried Leaves
They left the particles of leaves behind
Which still become our simple cry.
*Igi tida: a yoruba lament meaning the branch is broken to express loss
Written by: Olaogun Abidemi Abiola
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
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