Retirement is not in their register
Rest is another sad word to them
Dozing off in the duty of healing our nation
Grey hairs fill the seats meant for young hair
In the talking house, they recycle themselves
With different names – many of them are formers
Not many new names!
Not many new voices!
Ah! Grandpa, are you asleep?
I remember nature is around!
Grandpa, you’ve perfectly silenced us
We ought to be you!
Sitting down like you in the talking house
Healing our country!
Ah! I have forgotten
The youths are supposed to shut up:
Thugs, port-folio carriers, with warped psyches
Many are supposed to be dead – like on Immigration Day
Like the vultures hovering in the north
I’m happy to see you there
It is your second time ‘repping’ market women
But, grandma, I came around the other day.
You were at home; No stall, no shop!
Tell me, doe arthritis still allow you move?
I watched you today struggling to stay in one world –
Our world, in the talking house
I can see, you’re having a nice time here
Drifting from one world to another!
That young fish seller, would’ve fared better
If you had given her a chance to be here instead
They’re on a journey for us – so they pronounce
But they’re a curse to the youths – evil they fail to renounce
Take a nap. Grandpa, grandma, do
At the risk of the youth, sojourn on nature’s cue
If that is what you call growth take a nap
It’s just a N4million nap
And God is watching!
Written by: Anajama Chimezie and Ekemini Joseph
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.