My mother, Nigeria

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 Oh poor me!!!

My children look at me with disdain

They're eager to forget our fight for freedom

Oh poor me!!!

My children have taken turns to rape me

They've taken their knives and scarred me

Oh poor me!!!

Those who should cater for their wounded mother are appalled by the sight of her

They plot evil against her

Oh poor me!!!

My children pander with new mothers

Who's the savior that'll save me?

Oh poor me!!!

My once fertile land is almost barren

My emptiness is an outcry to mothers like me

Oh poor me!!!

A giant that is no longer tall

The dwarfs now cast me as lot

Oh poor me!!!

I'm indebted to all and sundry

Each looking for a way to own me

But...

I'm still standing, though I stand with a slouch

I'm still moving, even though I stagger throughout 

I'm still expectant though I've been termed sterile

The children I'll yet birth will be better than the ones who drove me to the ground.




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