29th September, 2015 Writers

Over the seas, in the West of an aged land 

I take my place, nestled between men I share a common shade.

I was birthed a free land some 55 years gone.

These stripes I wear remind me of this past.

Green, white, green. I bled.

These stripes mark the indelible truth of my sovereignty. 

I'm a mammoth, big, large and proud.

Set free from the shackles of the stables of colonisation. 

You see me now, my past a victory hardly remembered.

Trudging through the annals of time, I still bleed. 


But still, I stand free.

Unbroken. United.

A people so diverse yet so similar.

Mud caked boots battering evergreen plains.

In the distance, my belly bellowed from the sounds of their war songs.

Guns and boots.

Death and flags.

I stand strong, veins of rivers coursing through me.

Mountains of minerals, fountains of honey spot my skin.

The wind carries far the echo of my children's laughter.

Sun baked faces, paintings of joie De vivre.

I am Nigeria.

Beacon of hope

Lagos, Nigeria
  • The beauty in Nigeria is sometimes overshadowed by the scars and persistent troubles we have faced and still face, but one truth remains through all these times, we remain head bent and heart strong.

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