Really, I can see in the rivers no water!
Our waters once pure and sweet, healing it needs;
Who will heal Ogoni land and painful pains she bares?
Hawabare, the goddess of beauty and justice;
Once spoke through Ken
Speaking he spoke
But that left him with a broken neck
Others, too many speaking
Speaking into the ocean.
In and Out of temper, this is so rampant
Youths, an angry army ever ready to explode
Elders, a betrayal of many, yes we count too many.
O what excruciating pains we suffer in our rivers of dead fishes.
Vexed almost exploding
What else is left of us?
Our right pockets dry like the desert up north
Daily suffering from political menstruation, no tampons.
Just these and those endless spills flowing alongside our rivers from Shell, Agip and the degradation itself is Total.
Embarrassed and daily depressed by the senseless waste of our beloved nation
Feeding the whole nation from leaking barrels, indeed we look so barren
Our wells are owned, dug and drank by many few.
What about us?
Sadly, the blood bath from the Boko bombs is almost equating the liquid underneath the earth.
Where do we go from here?
Relax, they teach tell us
When they try to deceive all of us, all at once.
Political diarrhea, on us they shit and cheat
With our monies a fast transfer like cheetah
Grouping us into groups of death for yet another failed campaign promises.
Where are their children, the Aje-Butters?
U.K, France, how they love the spend the summer in Amerika!
Send us a savior, grant us this day, this favor
A reincarnated Ken
To march through rivers of no water.
Purge us, purify us, heal us!
So that we all can drink freely and be merry.
On our bended knees we ought to stand and not sleep
Our resources working for us together
So we pray, Amen.
In loving Memory of Ken Saro-Wiwa,
Nigerian Human Rights Activist, Writer and Environmentalist.