The mutely dance

Let's count our teeth with our tongue
The child in the storm accepts a drenched overcoat
Where are we now, the mute people of this nation
We are on the dance arena,
Where a step is double its cost
Where a step is not an ovation
But a pain in the striding foot
Just one litre of petrol for my grumbling car belly
Just a step to reach this glittering diamond
On this land littered with the priceless stone
A piece for no fixed price
A market madness with a lever
Driven into the bottom platform
Jacking the system to the heights

We are in the market arena
Chosen as our dancing stage
With hands folded on the chest
With mouth agape with no applause
Mute that we may save our sanity
As gorillas steal our dance
And ask us to clap in silent approval
We cannot be a failed nation
Where grass is found in the lexicon of grace
Let the constipated visit the clinic for
A laxative to move the bulk of filt of inefficiency
And discover a nation with good digestion
Let's forget that she is mute to our cajoles
Let's wage a war against her deafness.


(c) By Professor Ike Igbokwe