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If I do I die
Nigeria, you're dead. The dead nation you're shows you never existed
and can never be.
You raped my Mother land,
My Father land, the Ogoni country-home is brutalize by your greed. And
you expect me to forgive you?
No! If I do I die.
Nigeria, the dead country that never was raped my grandmothers,
mothers, sisters, cousins, aunts.
The little girls molested by your stupidity.
My brothers, uncles weren't spared. They're intimidated, horsewhipped,
humiliated, tortured and killed. Yet, they live. They refused to die as
the fight is here.
It's here for you to see and vanish!
You kill my people. Oh, my people are killed that you may live. The
kill and go soldiers; the police, your president killed my brothers.
And you expect me to forgive you?
No! If I do I die. I shall not die, and shall not forgive the crimes
against my people. You gun-totting soldiers; the military brutes whose
expertise jolts in experimentation beat, beat, raped and killed my
people.
Ogoni, my country home, my sweet home; the home that bleeds from dawn
to dust, home sweet home. You're dehumanized that Nigeria, $hell Oil,
Chevron and others may live.
No, not this time!
You murdered Ken Saro-Wiwa; murdered 8 others, 4, 000 more and
flattened our homes because of our riches. And you expect me to say
"thank you?" Not in my world, and not in the life of the Ogoni child.
The gas flares, as noxious and hot as they're; the devastation of our
ecosystems. Alas, the depletion of the biosphere in the most reckless
manner... and you wish I just say let's move on?
No. Not in this world of self realization.
Oh, our rivers, our only source of drinking water; the withered crops;
deforestation which causes climate changes and global hotting.
I die if I forgive you. Not on this earth; not in my life time. Ogoni
forbid you to live further. It spits you like the flames of $hell; the
flames of death.
You rape my Mother land. Brutalize my father land. My country-home
tortured and traumatized.
You kill my people in order to smoke our veins of crude oil. You buried
Niger Delta alive. These were done through your nose.
You must cough through your chest; your eye in the name of Ogoni,
the beauty you envied, killed, but has risen to ask why?
We know why, so I live not to forgive you. If I do I die.
Author: Ben Wuloo Ikari.
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