MALAM USMAN
His hut, he built on the icy hills of Bauchi,
With the Fulani\'s he does had fun,
The mooring of their cows gave him solace,
With Fura and Nono he was feed.
I met him when I was seven,
He told me tales of Borno,
Of how proudly it gave birth to Yobe,
With no desolation in it heart.
The spirited Malam Usman,
Belong to the sokoto caliphate,
In Taraba he harvested his crop,
And in Kaduna he sold his goods.
He told me he was loved in Kano,
And made friends in Gombe, Kebbi and Katsina,
He married from the Adamawa,
But wedded in Zamfara.
Malam Usman was a happy man,
He told me to chased his footsteps,
At twenty, I want to keep my promised to him,
I chose to conquer unity too.
On the icy hills of Bauchi now lays hatred,
Borno is now a sepulchre for souls,
With gunshot I catch cruises in Yobe,
Desolation now rules.
I tilled in Taraba but harvested skulls,
I was sold by my hoods in Kaduna,
In Kano I was beaten and rejected,
Neglected by friends from Katsina, Kebbi and Gombe.
Malam Usman lied to me,
But did he truly lied?
I think religion and politics lied,
Malam Usman was truthful.
Religion is meant to be sacred,
But nowadays it\'s trampled with disgust
Politics has eaten deep in men,
Blindfolding eyes with self centeredness.
Where is love?
Is it dead or asleep?
Religion is not war,
Neither is politics
Say No to Killings in Northern Nigeria!!
Wale Fidel (©D\'HolyPoet)
20th, Feb, 2021. All reserved.