I dialled to say hello
anticipating your upbeat response
from hello, I was going to say more
but most importantly
I needed to hear the assurance of your voice

Your cell phone rang many times
and I waited with bated breath
but there was no voice in response
The truth like a swift dagger
I’ll never hear your voice again

Was it clutched in your hands
when he struck with deadly intent
did your blood splash on its screen
over the image of your bright eyes
shining through your screen saver

A million rhetorics race through my mind
of things I should have said or done
of plans, we had made together
of how things made no sense
of how you are no more

I dialled your number
your phone rang in the grass
where it lay fallen
cut off just like its owner
its upbeat ringing tone
subdued like a dirge

©

Jacqueline

I wrote this poem yesterday with my home country Nigeria in mind. Nigeria celebrated its Democracy day, but we are far from democracy. According to late Fela Anikulapo Kuti, it’s more like ‘demonstration of craze.’

The butchering of innocent citizens by Fulani herdsmen dominates the news each day, gory photos of men, women and children slaughtered in their homes, in their farmlands too horrifying to look at, yet, the Ostrich of a President does absolutely nothing. Could it be that he chose to turn a blind eye because ‘he is Fulani’?

I try to keep away from political issues as much as possible, but when we keep silent evil continues to triumph and it saddens me to see a beautiful, blessed Nation destroyed by avarice and criminals called leaders.