Poem By Godfrey Chux Otiri
The guns of the Biafran Bight
Never sounded so audibly close
But now on our fragile earth,
They could be heard here and there-
Conflicts of might, of territories and of wealth;
About the un-debated pacts of the imperial era,
So artificial in scope, they could no longer hold the glue.
The period of awareness has recently dawned
To fuel the numerous killing fields;
It's burning like hell and lives turn to ashes,
their kins and kinds, like beasts of the wild
The world is shuddering but has no mandate to act
After all, its their war and not a world war:
Howbeit, the media be praised, we're allowed to view the games!