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Nigeria: In theory….

 

In theory, we have sweet smelling flowers,

Growing in their greens, a fairly white cloud covers,

Our air smells sweet and we plant beans like grass,

And fetch honey from springs.

But in practical…

The green is gone and the sky is red,

Blood smells and the air is filled with vapour of tears,

We scoop tears like dust, and the sweet things have gone sour.

 

 

My Nigeria, the nation of theory,

Our solutions are already written,

Read and implemented in the HOUSE where saviors gather,

There is nothing to fear, for you are perfect.

But in reality…

They are sewn and stuffed in the pillow of fools,

Fighting and looting in the HOUSE,

A home the children of future will seek someday,

They fear not the ROCK beside,

Because no longer can it drop a stone,

Nor roar magma and clouds of flames.

 

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I could have washed with crude oil,

The abundance confuse me with water,

I could have eaten about nine times,

But my religion calls it waste,

And I forgot to say it was a dream,

For in reality…

Crude is in theory, fuel at the dock,

Food became a tool,

For then we eat food to work with strength,

Now, it works on us when we eat.

A tool that brought us around the fence,

Peeping through the gates of the theoretical saviors.

 

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I hear cheers ‘we are one in love’

I hear sound of unity, Nigerian music,

I see a dance that goes neither up nor down,

But with the rhythm of peace. Oh legs are so useful!

In practical oh Nigeria…

I see tears, mothers have used all they have,

I hear sounds, who is the next to die,

They are dead! They are not dancing!

Now he runs for safety. Ah legs are so useful!

Destination is still here, a race that runs around you.

 

 

 

Yet I see hands of believers in practical,

In theory they believe, I reality they can try,

They have moved, but it’s a journey,

They must travel, and away from theory,

For in theory…

They have been to places,

But in reality, they are still there.

And history is blind to see their deeds.

 

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Look below the coat of arm!

Before the horses trample on our last green.

Can we unite and leave in peace?

Can we have the faith we need in ourselves and Nigeria,

Are we ready for progress in reality?

For in theory…

We are still here and can’t go anywhere.

Happy Birthday, My Nigeria

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