The Evening Lamorin was Murdered
- August 31, 2017
- by
THE EVENING LAMORIN DIED
We walked the bushy path in silence
The evening Lamorin was murdered
That was not the first time someone was killed
But the young doctor had just returned home
From lands beyond the oceans
Ladened with western accolades
Making his fathers proud
His head was removed
And his private parts butchered
Fear use to be the colour of nights
But now, even the days are nothing safer
Then father said me, son
Once upon a time
Lies were told in secret
Innocence was the bracelets of childhood
Love was the bead
Around the waist of our youths
The grey hair of the elders
Was their cap of wisdom
Peace swept down
From the seven mountains encamping us
Across our happy roofs
Cowries were everywhere
Like sands canopy the shore
Once upon a time
The wind bellowed with freshness
The rain showered with abundance
The leaves were green and the rivers clean
Hunters dance home
With shoulders burdened with antelopes
Farmers sing home
With baskets full of yams
But the howl of life has cried
And the magistrates of time are blind
In the darkness of these witching hours
The feet of doom-dancers are gathered
To sway to the rhythm of our downfall
Could this be the price we must pay
For letting the hands of strangers
Draw the lines of our lives?
Could this be the punishments we must endure
For allowing foreigners define who we are?
The hands of the child
Are no more stained with dust of ignorance
But adorned with the blood of their kinsmen
The hunger for life has
Invited the tyranny of death
The elders are the ones
Negotiating at the tables of the devil
Since kings have made pacts with lions
What is the fate of the infants
Who cannot defend themselves
Against the selfishness of the "gods"
Now this land quivers
In resounding echoes
Of the thundering fall of the giants
And that is just the beginning of the ending
This is the conspiracy of the ages
That can neither be forgiven
Nor forgotten
©Olatuja Oloyede
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