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(To a brisk, somewhat martial beat)
By Niyi Osundare
I saw brave Ken the other night
Short and sharp like an angry song
So many years, still no respite
The rot so rife, the pain so strong
The Oil Tycoons still pollute the land
Like a bunch of braggarts, untouchable band
Our days still dark, our nights a-flare
Our lives are ruled by fright and fear
The creeks are clogged, the rivers are choked
The fish are dead, the crops are gone
The same old fires, so blindly stoked
The same Oil Men with the greedy gun
They drill and drill and still they drill
A prostrate earth their mighty thrill
They spare no thought for coming years
Our trampled land, its wears and tears
The Delta’s Black Gold, our yellow threat
Our plundered land and corrupted home
They scoop their billions without a sweat
The polluted people are the rusted chrome
The story, dear Ken, is still the same
Except in places it’s grossly worse
The Delta’s door shakes in its feeble frame
The rot’s too strong for my humble verse
From Niyi Osundare’s latest collection of poems, Green: Sighs of Our Ailing Planet, published by Black Widow Press 2022
