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WE ALL CAN’T BREATHE

 


WE ALL CAN’T BREATHE

Your world is not safe when many around you cannot breathe freely. It is even worse when you try to find air but die in the process. If you ask why you can’t breathe perhaps you will blame yourself for voting in thugs to see to your interests. You will be angry at your father for not fighting against bad governance when it was still a 101 course. You will scorn your ancestors for allowing a stranger into their land and telling them that Sango and Amadioha were the bad guys. But the pressing issue is finding air. So, you do not want the blames to keep tormenting your sanity and chance at life. Thus, you protest, peacefully. Without guns, swords, machetes, you match to various centres in the country, seeking everything that would make you find peace; seeking a good life because you know how blessed your land is. You are proud of what you are doing, you see the future in front of you, the revival of the green land and the peace that would reign. You see your children idolizing you, you hear the world seeking refuge on your soil, you can travel anywhere not for survival but leisure. And then…

 

The sound of breaking thunders wakes you up to the present. A comrade falls by your side while others wail from bullet wounds; the atmosphere is a tussle for cover. Yesterday you told your mother that you would be coming home after the protest to swallow her well-prepared vegetable soup and pounded yam. Today you are wondering if you would catch another breath. You see the eyes of one of the shooters; you wonder how long you have been his enemy. You try to garner his sympathy but he is there like a zombie holding his weapon like his wife. You think that in a second you will be a ghost and your mother will follow suit of a broken heart. You are shot in the ribs which takes you quickly back to creation. Your ribs will not populate the world like Adam. Your ribs will be wasted like an unwanted biscuit bone. Your life will end as a mosquito sprayed with insecticides. You are gone in 60 seconds. And then…

 

You see your flag trampled upon, stained with the blood of your comrade. You struggle to touch it, believing it would save you. You call out the “let peace reign in this land” with your last strength as the cold of death begins to triple in. You cover up your ribs with your flag as it keeps you warm for three seconds. And then…

You are on tv gingering others to join in the quest for a better country. You have triggered the sleeping lions, now they want to devour any obstacle in their paths. They hold on to your day; 20-10-2020 as a child holds on to his mother’s breasts. They need to breathe all the air the tyrants have stored in their basements and abroad. The world is watching as these lions move. They move as fast as the cheetah for it is now a jungle where they must not be killed by their hunters in uniforms and soon, they will catch these hunters as their daily meals. For now, rest in peace and breathe freely.

To the Fallen Heroes

Image Source - Unknown



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