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POLITICAL BROUHAHA - BY BABALOLA ADENIYI ABRAHAM

In the savannah lands, in the swampy forest of the Niger area(Nigeria)
Walking down lanes, farm paths, streets, and markets
You cannot but to help yourself to know more
About such a jocund environment
Which Brings the quest to know of it culture and chieftains
And the hopes to experience sweetening recitals of the culture
And high praises of the able leaders
And when the majority reply
They give you the brouhaha
You experience pandemonium
Where the upper and lower lips riot
The air even forcefully seek it passage
With their all tensed eye in view
Everywhere turns rowdy and rumbling
But you still pick up faintly the ideas on their vexed minds
That the politics we hear and bargain for is not same as we experience
Our democracy stylishly turns autocratic
Our politics is faceless they say
Minority in power, yet minority rule Then where is the majority.
They echo louder that
Lincoln’s view portrayed democracy,
As a government of the people, by the people and for the people
But ours choked out “MAJORITY” the people, Making ours a government, though sincerely of the people,
But by the rich and for the rich.
Tell me, in our politics
Where a pauper wins
Or even contest in a local election today they query
Anarchy dominates our putrefied politics they roar
And when the elites would give their word
They say we all are the ambassadors,
Of our own poverty
They say we are myopic even to things inch away from us
Stressing that our myopia made us prefer
Polished goodwill to astute fortune Then why the hullabaloo when we voluntarily surrendered to absurdity Wait for elections and see
If you don’t joyfully put in for your allergy they say Our political disciples is a constitute of eleven Judas out of twelve
Making Honesty and truth heavily subdued, they say
Then at point they ask
When will honesty ever rule?
And the kleptomaniac fingers be substituted it is coming, faintly says the majority giving an hopeful look.