Ending Our Blindness
written by: Shedrack Ifada
What is left of a man,
whose sight is painted in abundant darkness?
For so are we, residing under this burning lamp
which is retreating daily, into the sky
With our mouths clamoring with placards in our hands,
but sometimes negativity paints the streets red
blessing heaven with a lot of souls to accommodate
Just for seeking rain, to wash off our blindness,
So, fleeing to the lands of the white men
seems to be our notion of reclaiming our sight.
So I ask- can a man leave his home on fire
And expect the flames to subside or die?
No, for the flame shall keep consuming, till
it derives all into ashes and buries in the dust:
So brothers! let return, muster, and cultivate
for the lands can cultivate not itself
so we’re left with no choice but to farm, that
if we ever want to embrace a bountiful harvest,
Which we can achieve, even
as gigantic a tide can brag of
It will surely fade out, at a point
Just how heavy this burden can be
But we shall thrive, hiking onwards to regain our sight
Through all mountains, till we build Africa
And stand at the top beating our chest, a gorilla
Being called the giants, we were meant to be.
- Ending Our Blindness - June 7, 2022
