UNTITLED.

Ralph Okafor

Biography: I am a short pencil in the hands of a writing God sending a love message to the world.

Ralph Okafor

Monday 18 April 2022

Darkness crept over the landscape,

The ambient moon was so sickened and pale with grief.

It was a bloody night,

A cold and memorable wake.

As the sun rose on our graves.

What an irony of situation?

Our cry of anguish unmistakable.

End SARS,

End police brutality,

End bad govt.

A tribute to a long life of silence, strife and suffering.

Drawn by our hopes and dreams to great lengths,

From far and near we converged,

Depending on one anothers determination.

So we threaded the distance in a peaceful protest.

Very resourceful and well organised.

Embellishing their defeats before them.

Every step of the way they stalked us like wolves with evil intentions.

Our guts irritating them.

Lest, they repressed our claims with recriminations and counter accusations.

They termed our actions public disobedience.

Though a mere decenting voice to the truth we speak.

And in a pack of spell trouble they responded to us with greater wickedness, assualt and cruelty ever than before.

At gun point our future was hijacked in the dead of the night.

Unarmed, harmless to the very least innocent.

In greater numbers we fell and are constantly falling.

Lifeless bodies slained.

Helpless strains of the wounded.

We became shooting targets for long range practice.

No mercy shown.

No remorse or pity nor compassion.

Two years too long,

No justice for the slain

And no core action to address our course.

Even though the more visage sign of protest may have gone,

Like many of comrades so long.