On the rising sun
Crazed with fear
For the spreading rays of hope
Heavy with a curse
Of many genocides ago
She claws her way
To the next damnation
Now behind the mask
Of democracy, in the dark passions
Of people-deceiving-people
How many gowons make one
How many darknesses make a victor
Become the vanquished?
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It is my hope that...
This ship, "The Naija", will someday recedes against tempest tide.
Then, those on-board, will wear smiles as that of newly wedded bride.