Bring Us back home - by Elizabeth Onorasi

Our Babies!! Where, oh where, could they possibly be? Ohhh!, where are our precious little ones, our babies!! They are nothing but innocent children who have been forcibly taken from the comfort and solace of their parental homes, thrust into a world that they do not understand. We once believed we were liberated from danger. We had seen a glimmer of hope in Nigeria, a promise that better days were ahead. However, we never wished to shed tears for our children again, especially after the painful ordeal of the kidnapping of our Chibok girls. We had eagerly anticipated a brighter future, longing for a place we could genuinely call home, a sanctuary of safety and love. Mom, I often find myself yearning for the Nigeria you so fondly described in your childhood tales—the remarkable country that everyone admired for its peace, unity, and love that enveloped its people. Does the Nigeria depicted in the stories from our forefathers truly exist, or has it become a mere figment of imagination? Dad, what has become of the noble efforts of our heroes who once fought valiantly for a better Nigeria? When did we turn our backs on their sacrifices and the legacies they left behind? They devoted their lives to building a brighter future for our homeland. President Tinubu, where has all their hard work gone? Has it been rendered futile and wasted as we look upon the current state of our nation? We beseech Nigeria to rise once more; we, the children, long to feel the joy of singing freely in the streets without the paralyzing fear of being snatched away by lurking monsters. We yearn to embrace one another in love and harmony, surrounded by a sense of security we once took for granted. Even now, I find myself nostalgically missing the carefree days of my six-year-old self—those innocent moments when I remained blissfully unaware of the chaos that enveloped the world around me. The delightful times when I played Ten Ten with my friends, shared delicious Sibije, and baked cakes using leftover biscuits. I remember cooking vegetable soup made from our mother’s surplus veggies, and the simple joys of sharing Coca-Cola and mixing Fanta with tea. Can the fallen Nigeria rise from its ashes? Let us join together in our efforts to lift Nigeria up. We miss our babies dearly; we yearn for the peace that once enveloped our country—a land flowing with milk and honey. Those innocent children who were so cruelly taken from us were meant to be in school, frolicking on playgrounds, joyfully playing in the streets while calling out to one another. They should be enveloped in their innocent phase of life, nurtured by parents who tend to them with loving care as a farmer tends to the vegetables in their garden. Instead, these little ones are being forced to grow up far too quickly in a landscape filled with pain and suffering. Are they out there, enduring the scorching heat of the sun? Are they exposed to the chilly nights, without the warmth of security? Are their tender legs shielded from the relentless mosquitoes buzzing around them? Are they haunted by nightmares, seeing fearsome monsters in their dreams? Have their diapers even been changed since they were taken? We remain in the dark, unable to fathom their suffering; all we can feel is the profound heartache of losing our beloved babies to these monsters, whose origins remain a mystery to us. Bring back our babies! Bring back our jewels, our hope for a brighter tomorrow! Allow us the chance to nurture and tend to them once again.

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