I know of a place where our terminal
degrees are reduced to mere papers
and its holders become artisans,
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
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,
by docile followership!
meet the poet: Jon Manuels Enekele