“ASK YOUR PRESIDENT” by Micah Ogugua okoye


At the news stand the other day
I saw the photos of the still men on paper
Their faces were as pale as snow
They looked like youths who held a picture
Of some places they wanted to be

A suckling mother on the front-page
Died with hands on her lose wrapper
She too looked like a traveller
With a blissful dream
Of some place she wanted to be

And on the back page of the papers
Was the frame of a little lad
He had a slashed arm
And a crushed skull
This innocent child I thought
Should have had some child-like dream
Of some place he wanted to be

A village had become a morgue
A people had become a failed generation
There was a silent tension at the news stand
Men staring at papers with unspoken truths

I wondered if we all at the stands
Had such a collapsing desire
Of some place we wanted to be
I also wondered if that unclear dream
Was worth dying for

200 brothers of ours
Had just been massacred by known men
In cold blood
Yet we all chose to walk away
In the silence of our guilt
Like it was just another day

Then a fair lady screamed
“Why the hell is everyone silent?”
The vendor replied swiftly
“Ask your president!”




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