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The Fallen Giant: A lament for Nigeria's stolen Children
<p>Oh My Country Nigeria</p><p><br/></p><p>Oh My Country Nigeria, </p><p>your soil drinks the tears of toddlers, </p><p>little feet that once chased chalk dust </p><p>now stumble through bushes in chains. </p><p><br/></p><p>Oh My Country Nigeria, </p><p>on May the fifteenth, gunshots shattered dawn, </p><p>three schools bled innocence in Ogbomoso, </p><p>thirty-nine children, some barely two years old, </p><p>ripped from classrooms meant to birth their dreams. </p><p>Yet your government turns a blind eye, </p><p>feasting behind marble walls while blood flows freely. </p><p><br/></p><p>Oh My Country Nigeria. </p><p><br/></p><p>Oh My Country Nigeria, </p><p>a mathematics teacher, Michael Oyedokun, </p><p>stood before blackboards etching futures, </p><p>now his head rolls in a bandit’s video— </p><p>a trophy for monsters, a warning ignored. </p><p>Mothers claw at empty beds, fathers rage at silent skies, </p><p>but your leaders sip wine and quote statistics, </p><p>deaf to the screams echoing across the land. </p><p><br/></p><p>Oh My Country Nigeria. </p><p><br/></p><p>Oh My Country Nigeria, </p><p>where fear is the only constant companion, </p><p>where parents kiss their children goodbye </p><p>wondering if school will return them alive. </p><p>You parade Children’s Day on the twenty-seventh, </p><p>a hollow celebration while little warriors remain hostages, </p><p>caged by monsters you refuse to crush. </p><p><br/></p><p>Oh My Country Nigeria. </p><p><br/></p><p>Oh My Country Nigeria, </p><p>once a giant of Africa, rich with promise and pride, </p><p>a land that stood tall at independence, </p><p>boasting black gold and brains that lit the continent— </p><p>now living in ruins, a shadow of her former glory. </p><p>How dare you still boast of greatness </p><p>while your babies shiver in captivity, </p><p>while teachers’ blood paints the path to knowledge red? </p><p><br/></p><p>You have failed the purest among us, </p><p>turned sanctuaries of learning into slaughter fields, </p><p>and your government watches it all— </p><p>complicit, comfortable, and cruelly silent. </p><p><br/></p><p>Oh My Country Nigeria. </p><p><br/></p><p>Oh My Country Nigeria, </p><p>the world watches your children disappear </p><p>while the powerful sleep behind tall walls of denial. </p><p>We cry with bleeding hearts and burning rage: </p><p>Bring back our babies! End this slaughter of hope! </p><p><br/></p><p>For you were once a great nation— </p><p>a beacon of black excellence and resilience— </p><p>now a crumbling ruin drowning in fear and forgotten blood. </p><p>Wake up, Nigeria… </p><p>or forever remain a fallen giant, </p><p>haunted by the ghosts of your stolen children. </p><p><br/></p><p>Oh My Country Nigeria… </p><p>Oh My Country Nigeria… </p><p>Oh My Country Nigeria.</p>
The Fallen Giant: A lament for Nigeria's stolen...
By
David Lilly-West
David Lilly-West
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Port Harcourt, Nigeria
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