Tuesday, 1 May 2012


Some moons ago we danced sang and swayed

We wriggled our conscience to be played

Door to door we spread the gospel of vain

All haling the animation that was very plain

Oh what a coupon we had bought in April

Suddenly, after 50 years we will hit the mega lottery

To the wise and broad good luck is an illusion

A mere consolatory song for the delusioned

How suddenly can a wild dog roar in the jungle?

I thought we knew wolves and sheep don’t mingle

On the day we casted the lot I dried on Osborne

With no doubt that we gambled with the unborn

Across the seas I watched for the numbers

Maybe this this I can live the dream of a nation by the rivers

The first number called was tenure elongation

Seven years of tears, sorrow and degradation

Coming along was deregulation

The digit for corruption, waste and emasculation

Now it suddenly hits me like a cassava farmer

Who didn’t plant but expects to eat cassava bread in summer

Personal folly is pardonable without trepidation

National futility is however beyond medication

In less than a year our good luck again has gone fatal

Bad luck then to all who elected to rather flutter

                                              Omo-Ekun, ilu-Nla


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