Do not ask me again

Why I hop from tree to tree like a monkey

It is because I am in a frantic search

For healing herbs for my bedridden country

And just as the thunder’s applause welcomes the rain

And the torch of lightening illuminates the path

On which the raindrops walk

The shrieks of my compatriots

Have spurred me to walk the thorny path

Of revolution, hope’s flickering flame

lightens this path and Nelson Mandela’s snore

from the sandy bed of his grave cheers me:

“Walk on child. ” It beckons my tired limbs

as I walk on the foot path carved out with

the glistening edge of my pen but like

Dele Giwa who travelled in our behalf

I know that one day

One of you like Judas Iscariot

Would take let them put in your mouth a piece of bread

that sort of bread on which a generation of moulds and fungi thrive

and you would for that bread

ride on the chariot of selfishness

To deliver death to me wrapped in a colorful pack

But if you think

all my life is worth is but a piece of bread

Please come right away

For I would not stop

using my inky stroboscope

to keep my satirical ripples alive

until Nigeria’s political health is restored