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Green and white detribalised our existence
Our grumblings are more private than public
Alas! Our ears have been listened to dialogues
Will writers present a collective opinion?
While the nation’s children live together
Like children of unknown concubines
Fighting for the rights of their mothers
Would the writers watch?
Men and women in native attire
Tattered, but starched to stand still
Like aloe vera in the desert
Feeble, but showing strength
In the centre of the wincing wind
The earth has been its saviour
The dust, greedy with impunity
Holds the legs of the feeble aloe vera
Let our pens rains ink to detribalize our opinions
Let’s water the starched attire men and women
These deceptive men, mere penis warriors
And their women with greedy cleavages
I suppose we’ll earn more gains
From this amalgamation of pains
Or we live like the spread stars
Hang on the nudity of a veiled sky
The moon stands below their reality
When will our earth be illuminated?

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